We are of an age
when most friends have fallen away
through marriage or moving,
divorce or growth.

We are work friends
until one of us quits
and then another
and another.

So, when we gather to celebrate new positions
and summer,
to sip margaritas by a pool,
letting the last few years’ traumas melt away in the sun,
one of us shouts:
Hey, y’all know what this means?
Since none of us will work together anymore,
we aren’t just work friends–
we’re real friends!

And we laugh,
and we hope this time
these will last.