How many sunsets have we watched together over that same horizon?
How many berakoth have we parsed before we reached 13?
How many gigs have we spun, you on skins, me on strings?
How many repasts in confraternity, how many 750s in convivium?
How many nights in Chandler’s America and Shakespeare’s Italy?
How many sunrises have we watched together over that same horizon?

Do you remember the 3 a.m. panino dunked in the Belluno périphérique?
Do you remember the 11 a.m. glass offered by the Alpini?
Do you remember the collation we shared in the Carson jail?
Do you remember the heifer we carved under the W-burg bridge?
Do you remember the Moscato d’Astis, the Brunellos, the grappas?
Do you remember the Dolomite sunrise we watched in Agordo?

From the edge of the sea to the foot of the mountain,
From the depths of desolation to the peak of our delight,
I remember them all — each and every one.