When days are fine
What shall we write on?
William Saroyan
And the cold day
In San Francisco.
Regular things like
Panging for touch
In the 3 o’clock hour,
Scratching mosquito bites
While studying portraits.

If all the days of my life
Led to this one
Where I had you
In communique,
Meeting you,
Sharing time,
Mixing our histories
Our pathways
It might not mean a thing to you
For me it has been a pleasure.

Portraits and laughter
Reviewing the song
Of your life
Colorful passion
Making leaps
I wonder where you will land.

In this early hour of the morning
I can only be overjoyed
That I might have the pleasure
Of you at least once more,
Uncertain how long you will
Be in my story.