let me meditate
on your voice
my sweet moon
you sound
like a being of the sky
a silver cloud
that turns with the night
damp blue

your laughter
the news
of first rain
a freshwater stream
lifegiving

the sound of your
cotton footsteps
my early mornings

the sight of your feet
my good fortune

I'm a poet, I must
carry my notebook around
just in case you turn to
look over your shoulder
on a sunny afternoon
the sun squinting
at the blinding light in the sky

I'll be back
when I have more to say
can you blame me
for falling short of words?

goodnight