The same old tables know my name

And memories felt

In feelings like young hands first touch

Return in eyes one and the same

In creation, I create

And in hopeful optimism grow

Looking continually cut

Like the flowers by the highway lives

In wishing and where is why I tend to find

That you are the foremost thought of late

The only sonnet ever on my mind

In a humming truth like a vibrant bird

You are here most every time alive