Poets together

I saw you once, in Boston City Hall 
thinking about poetry and 
the road you took from Cambridge (maybe
I don't know) you were wearing shoes
like any good traveler - looking at Ryk 
as he spoke words about his little girl
and love - perhaps in your heart
you traveled back home to be with
your father for a moment (maybe
i don't know) you were half-smiling
when you got up to read your poem
about jazz - improvisation - (maybe ) you 
(i don't know) wandering off after 
the microphone went off, no chosen path, 
only Boston and perhaps one day the chance
you might arrive.