pacing, pacing, pacing
as if these weathered wood floors were my sanity
a staircase of thought leading to the answers I’m struggling to find
thoughts falling down to join the others on the floor, a river
jumping out of me with every footstep
this afternoon swelling inside and out
making wish upon wish to be somewhere else
to be with someone else
I keep climbing and going nowhere at all
pacing, pacing, pacing

fantasizing future breaches in this ever-taxing wall
with every thanks due to you, and your cordial way of moving my thoughts
towards you, and upwards into this exotic dream of
clever rhymes and reverie, of fluctuating feelings and wittiness
with the rest of the story remaining untold, prosperity or tragedy
don’t let this breach tear my walls down from the inside out

please.

you rub your tired eyes and run your fingers through your frazzled hair
you try not to worry, stumble forward into the sunrise
wanting, wandering, absent, unheeding, bemused, a million miles away

you put on your favorite shoes and drink a sip of vitality
you think less of yourself and more of the day
calloused, obdurate, no room for thoughts, try not to daydream, I dare you

a ghost inside a robot. a drifting soul chained to an anchor.
your body has awoken to do what your mind cannot
and you stumble forward and you keep moving into the sunset
today, today, today, and everyday

you and I are like
the strong minute hand and the fragile second hand
of the old grandfather clock in the library
there’s a harmony and a connection
they belong together
but they’ll never actually be together

you and I are like
two cars on a desolate country road late at night
as they pass each other from opposing directions
for a moment, all they can see are the headlights of the other
blinded from anyone and anything around them
but it doesn't last that way for very long
the journey continues

you and I are like
this movie i saw once with a happy ending
but that movie didn’t last long either
or the hundreds of poems I’ve written about you in my head
that never actually lived to breathe on paper
or the wildflowers in the field that are killed
by the frost every year

when our eyes locked from across the room today
it didn’t last very long
but in a way it did, behind my eyes
inside my mind, I still see you
your eyes looking into mine
and maybe it’ll always be this way
the way the minute hand and the second hand pass each other
without turning around for a second glance
a second chance
and you’ll always pass another car on the road
perhaps the same cars day in and day out
going different directions, suddenly they’re gone
and movies end, words are lost, and the annual freeze is inevitable

and I hope that, eventually
I won’t look at you and search for a second chance
because when it comes to you and I
just like the passing hands of the grandfather clock
goodbye is as inevitable as the death of the wildflowers
and as painful as the headlights in my tired eyes

open my heart and what will you find
a rugged traveler and a delicate mind
velvet dreams and vanilla mornings
songs of gladness and flowers adorning
wanderlust daydreams and simple poetry
firefly memories and crystal royalty
starlight
melodies
whispers
hopes
fears
tired eyes
impatience
and you

mostly you