from that which was
are we returned
so different for the knowing
of gravel roads
and time (we spent away)

resolved to dream
but for the thought –
(took so long to find us)
in the midst
of moving on –
a smile becomes

a slower start
to chart the day –
mere moments held aside
breath to raise another
from an empty
coffee cup

– or miles
(we can’t remember)
on the way to getting by
(and going on)
each day – a new
goodbye

from times before
returning as a blush
of noonday sun –
a love which stays
despite our care
in leaving us
behind