write with me
… as if i’m writing you
… as if i hear only your voice

your substance, your curves, your nuances, your eyes
as if for the first time
seeing me, perhaps
as a tiny particle of life in the ripple of a pond

it’s true, i remember the stars
when we first met

did you know that the cobble stones
on our path
each covered in moss
growing
alive
know that to provide direction
to you
is to cheat you of your trail of treasures in life?

… with your warm beaming clouds

listen to them
(.  .  .)
i do

© r.e.l. 5/27/12

Posted for Thursdays Poet Rally 6/6-6/13/12 on Hyde Park Poetry