top of page

fellow travelers

by Oscar Guerrero

saved_1964.4.10.jpg

i knew you once

fellow traveler

you waved as you pushed off into the sea

gentle waves cradled you into

a dawning sun

the wind let me know of your exploits

i heard of the friends you made

the partners you danced with

the ship that capsized

the port where you almost married

those who betrayed you

those who caressed you

 

i traveled by train to see you again

to drink to your glory and mine

sand had beat gutters of time

laced around your eyes

and you looked at me

as i held your hand and counted scars,

balking at my mustache

we showed each other proof

of our own existence

lives discarded, dispatched, dissolved

a body transformed, a soul intact

and so we knew each other again

 

i bid you farewell

fellow traveler

i have my own journey to seize

and i’m setting off to sail tomorrow

i’ll remember you in your doorframe

arm wrapped around a milk glass

and you’ll remember me at my best

i’ll root for your homestead

while i embark to new shores

please write to me

give me proof of your own existence

and i will give you mine

and so we sail on

fellow travelers

crossing distances and divides

breaching depths

carving wakes

marking time through our encounters

we sail past waves of mirth and sorrow

on through monsters and storms

may our hearts roam

meeting again in distant harbors

or in the land of our birth

guided by careful currents

About the Author

Oscar Guerrero (he/they) is a Cultural Studies M.A. student, a brother, a son, a best friend, an artist, a writer, a cartoonist, a romantic little fool, a runner, a walker, a shower singer, an archivist, a curator, a worrier, a rehabilitating perfectionist, and sometimes a poet.

Receive Updates on Issue Releases

​Thank you for subscribing!

​

bottom of page