![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf9NOUxbYoH9evcHqwGXDZWgFlRU_OUtGwIrYh-U8KOYQjV5oc4Ttr7tV6OD8YzRJcM-ioV8uSjY8XAG9sEEGw5aIVGaZ1hl0aQVjlMArplHsCE4z0Z_Ux4kM1CvUZGvNPgTTJ8oWy4Wo/s280/14847_Ignatius-Loyola.jpg)
God
is the memory of walking
with you on Sheridan Road,
discovering a new chain cafe,
maybe Starbuck's.
Do they serve bagels at Starbuck's?
We had stood
by the still waters
outside the Loyola library
talking--
where, as a freshman,
years earlier, I studied biology and math
for the exams, never learning
you had been born.
Now, you were with me.
I would not want.
That must be why
a vague reference to god
in a book I was reading
called out
to remind me to give thanks
for your goodness and mercy.
Joseph Somoza
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