first time traveling without you
as a finality
as a death
as an end
what is left are
the shoes walking
the rolling of luggage the other departures and the arrival of
a final me
alone
tired of voices
of too much
when a little is a lot
is
really
all one can take
that is
a little
all one can see
that is
a
little
in time
closing and opening
what don’t you know
fills a heavy bota
a flotilla
of unanswered
and unawareness
airport bags and hair
the click of a can
reminds
this morning
a downy woodpecker’s beak
so small so loud
a little
a little
lousy how everything is filling up
people
lonely places
even the mind
hasn’t time for emptiness
children do
children do
“do you need me to come over there?”
to see the skaggerak and kattegat
to see seine
nets
and
voyages
the sea
is a dream
is a
seized dream
inside the mountain that is mind
that has no sea
but the me
inside
you can be along the danube
along the side of your mind where the water is
where the water sourced
source
source
