About Time
You were late
for work.
I wanted
to explain
about time,
but there wasn’t any.
We’ve given the streets
names. Even the stars
are numbered.
Yet the distance
never seems to close.

Moving just so,
endless departure
sustains us. You wear
no watch. I see
no calendar
on your wall. Yet given
the hour of my birth
you say you understand me.

When I left
you were crying.
Your tears
had a certain direction.
It’s three hours later,
your sorrow the bridge
I’ve walked
across this swollen river
of a morning.
Perhaps you’re smiling now.