Exactly 20 years from today
I meet myself
Under the clock
In Grand Central Station.

The sunflowers
And anti-government literature
I am carrying
Are how I recognize myself after so many years.

I am an old man now,
A glass of water.
It's rush hour in mid-winter
And I have only minutes to live.

All the lonely ones
In the crowd
Have light
Shining from their eyes.

We signal to one another
Like gang members.
Packages and envelopes change hands.
Silence falls from our pockets like wallets.

I whisper the code word
To myself
And know I can finally
Be trusted.

                                                   -- Panama, January 27, 2005

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