Sunday, June 7, 2015

I Awoke to Thoughts of You

We’ve listened to hammers
hitting the same strings
in different ways
20-something years.


Silent partner,
rest your chin on your forearm
if you hear my name
lying face-down in the grass.


Never more obvious,
God manipulates circumstances
as perfection arrives
late.


The first night:
a shotgun to your thinking,
then a laugh to disguise
sincerity.


And this morning
means nothing
except for a lasting moment
to hold back your name.