I've spent these days
snared thoughts of you
tracing love, death
and life gone by
with a weary hand-
just a flight to take
and a time to go
and speaking of time-
it's the biggest excuse
for waste I've
ever made-
reticent but somehow
returning in a
bright void of light
I shade my eyes
think of word
combinations
for YOU to
see, wrap around
your head, and
no - I haven't been
a saint through all
of this
I haven't even tried
but what kept me here
all along was the
unbuffed shine in your
eyes,
in the favorite photo:
the one I keep on
my desk - still
bouncing back to me
from a sound we sent
to a shattered galaxy
resounding
repeating
orchestral.
11 November, 2004
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