DAYS AND DAYS
Fewer and fewer days
go by when I think
of you. I thought,
like the blinking light
that registers noon
after the electrical
storm disconnects us
from every other room
on the planet, you would
still be here, inoperable
but winking, regular,
reminding me we
moved.
Fewer and fewer days
go by when I think
of you. I thought,
like the blinking light
that registers noon
after the electrical
storm disconnects us
from every other room
on the planet, you would
still be here, inoperable
but winking, regular,
reminding me we
moved.