#22 - Development
We had a talk, the two of us
the other night, under a long moon
its light cast in reflection over reflection over reflection
layering the waves
ocean below us, before us
we were high up on our cliff
And it feels like "ours" at that distance, even though
it's more yours than mine, much more
Anyways, I had a cigarette
offered you one, and to my surprise you accepted
'What a gentleman', the other voice in my lapel pocket
but only with so much mock
at this point in developments it's conversation too.
A three-way conversation more than a two-way
but you knew that before I even asked if we could talk
you and I, under the stars
you know I don't go out alone anymore
Still, I extended the offer
because it seemed to matter that I tried.
I always think of what I miss. It's nice to know you miss
that upon change, you acknowledge, and that you can reflect
I don't think that is relevant here but,
in a way, is it what this has been all about?
I ask you about the stars. Or maybe I talk to you
no questions, no motives
who's to tell the difference at a certain elevation?
I ask about K, about my tribe, and my family
I ask most of all about myself and that which I've beget
I make shapes with the smoke I inhale.
It's all part of getting comfortable,
It's all part of growing into me
breaking the new shoes in
You give them pots, they whose roots you tend
He gives me shoes, he who my roots now lead to
I wonder at how accurate that metaphor might be
How close to home
A transplant's ponderings.
What words did we really have besides idle conversation?
Or was this what all the trouble was about?
Sometimes, that is enough.