Tell me what's going on
in your life, my friend.
Did you tickle the belly of the moon
last night?
Lie down in the lair
of spiders?
Or did a sweet wind
take your mind,
transform it into ripples
across the pond
radiating outward?
Or perchance electricity and the sweet scent of ozone?
Or a tiny flower called
"Nevermore"?

Me
I chose to dig a cave
beneath my anxieties
taste something resembling Life,
in congested dreams,

All for a moment of quiet
and the hint of a new poem.

I saw you
I saw you through a fog

An unnatural light framed your face
your eyes in shadow
as always
the brilliant sun of June
cried in the heavens
the trees moving with the rumors
of what might be

Everything there was to say
about the rest of my life
was eloquently stated
laid down
exclamation pointed

But you, Cynthia.
Never further away
than today.