Thursday, August 23, 2012

an unknown season

That park bench is empty.
Beyond it leaves scatter
toward the curling river.

New and old airs of autumn
move this noon beyond me.

In its place around that bench
a clockless time and you appear
out of nowhere sitting under an elm.

If you were really there
I'd sit down beside you.
I would think of nothing to say.
I am completely out of words.

Just the miracle of sitting in silence
beside you and saying nothing at all...

friends don't have to talk, just be.

So much waiting would find its moment
of brilliant airs in this unknown season.

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