The wise man says I am a collection of my five best friends.

I change the subject.

I am sitting in his office

The bearded Ed

My eyes dart across the bookshelves

I don't know why eyes nest in books found

I guess they would constantly twitch

If they could not settle



Later this morning I wonder again who my five friends are

I run through friends in my mind like treasures

I have so many close and beloved friends

I even have sisters and brothers I think of the same



There is an irony that I don't know who they are

My mind flips the pages

My eyes find the text