My Breakfast With Dan

I first met Dan at a poetry reading. Even though there is a good twenty years age difference we formed a quick bond. For as long as I’ve known Dan we’ve joked about someday leaving New Jersey, heading down to Mississippi and disappearing into the wilderness to write. After ten plus years we are still here in NJ. I love getting together with him on the rare occasion. As we sat eating the massive breakfasts that New Jersey diners do we get down to talking about our lives. Both of us have gone through several job changes and are hoping we can move on to something else. Both of us wants to write more but have come to a stand still. Not writers block, but a feeling we weren’t coming up with anything significant. We are poets, aren’t we supposed to write something significant? I think the question we want to ask is, “Aren’t our lives meant to be significant?” A good question. If I were to rely on poetry for the answer I’d realize that life has the potential for significance. Where ever I turn there is the spectacular!!! Didn’t Thoreau tell us to suck the marrow out of life? No. That isn’t the case. I found while leafing through my copy of Milton a note my grandmother sent me. There was no special occasion for it, she was just thinking of me. Not a very significant gesture. Much like my breakfast with Dan. An insignificant conversation made special by the fact I do have someone to have breakfast with once a month. Instead of seeking the significant out of the moment I think it’s far better to thank God and look forward to the next time.