taking separate
trains
in separate
ways
to meet again
next june,
and ill be ticking
off the
days
like you’ll be
with me
soon.
distance
the mere mention
of your
life
brings me eye to
eye with
mine
to ponder questions
i can’t ask
because it’s out
of my hands.
passenger’s side
was as close
as i’d
get
to knowing
driver’s
mind
though inches
from mine.
in between blunted
honks of
geese
i watch you soar
to far off
perch
to take your place
amidst the
free,
accentuating the space
that spans our
fates.
i love you
for not mirroring me,
but don’t know
who to
be..
when we don’t look each
other in the
eye–
when we don’t
even
try.
i feel you
closer,
when we sing
together,
yet,
too often
we hum the same
lonely tune
in different
rooms.
hands in the garden 
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