were we ever here (I wonder)
sometimes I look for signs –
a tell-tale love that left itself in crumbs
ribbons worn to branches
smoke to hide the blue –

letters carved a season to the bark
pieces floating elsewhere
out beyond my sight

imagined I a place
where I retrieve
the message that was written
words as silence ring
but I remain no different
for the proof

wherein the vault of yesterdays
are photographs of me
a then I could not pass
to meet me here –

highways once converged
along a lonely stretch of dirt
tis not the evermore
I wished to know –
but something more than whispers
more than markers made

chiseled as a rite into the stone
reminders of another me
a time before I came
awaiting there for signs
I couldn’t see