Conversations (VI) — to the future
With eyes closed I can hear you smile.
Your voice a place I know my way around.
Woodpeckers say goodnight the strangest way
And other birds of winter appear as singular
Leaves of gray, blue, gold on the trees
We can only see through their nakedness.
I drop your eyelids’ map of dreams:
Everything you are I still don’t know
Runs through my veins
Like the flight patterns of birds
that never have to know the route
Another beauty, Jeff.
Thanks, Len. Our porch still has good karma from your visit, man!
I’ll be back, Jeff, but probably not my next trip, which will be shorter than last time. But when I come back in November, 2017, I will wing my way to your porch.
Lovely, quietly deep
Its another lovely and beautiful poem by u ! Its wonderful 🙂
‘Everything you are I still don’t know’ 🙂 I wish I was wise enough to comment.
I think you just did. Thank you.