Humans start in different orbits
like planets migrate over time
across different seas of love
the distance is immaterial
the wind inside the weather
touches a piece of fruit on a tree
and its short story is detached
the distance is immaterial
vanished by a summer rainbow
you lie in bed and remember
the distance is immaterial
rounds changed circles changed
space gathered up on a black map
what you really hear is gone.
oh this one went into me. nice work Rob.
ReplyDeleteThanks for listening, Kerri.
ReplyDeleteI like the alternation between real things and abstract stuff and interesting repeat, it's true
ReplyDelete