In the blue air this morning
I caught a glimpse of a shadow that might have been
the night before or it might have been
you closing the door on me
either in metaphor or inconsequence
Should I suggest that clear mornings bring clear minds
just as tidy desks do likewise for their
absent owners who hang around in
a distant room hoping their desks won't hear?
Should we spend our days making lists that dissappear
when there is meaning or even shopping to be gathered
from the moments between actions
from those times when we are neither at our desks
or before the fire and that
is to suggest neither here nor there.
Should we look upon this feeble sun as a reason to move?
I scrabble on the asphalt drive with feet that have turned
away from the tasks to be done in the cool of the day.
I turn eyes that have held the stare of the sun too long
and cannot see your face beyond a silhouette
and a smile that finds it's way through hair and blindness and the oncoming
rush of time.