Marks

I'm in a perpetual state of saying hello
And then immediately saying goodbye
Packing boxes and sending them abroad
Stepping foot in new, unfamiliar lands
Taking a photo
Then walking off toward the horizon

I smile, shake hands
And disappear in the distance

I wonder if, in my experiences with others,
If I tread lightly
Barely disturbing the slight film of dust
On the souls of my friends
Or exist as a breeze
Which barely caresses an ear or cheek

I want to leave a real mark
Stamp my initials on their hearts
With an iron brand
Or carve our story upon their flesh
Like a declaration of love
Upon an oak tree

I want the scar I leave to be cherished
And recalled for decades to come
Never to be mourned
Because I want people to know
That in those moments
We lived.

T