Connected

The miles
are rolled out between us
like the dough for Christmas cookies
and I contemplate
whether cutting circles along the length
like stepping stones
would help it shrink
and weave your end with mine
somewhere in the middle
like some Alice in Wonderland
turn of events
 
I am tired,
and I feel myself beginning to drift
in the froth of impending sleep.
This repeated resting the eyes
may ease their ache
and the thoughts that pass
across the insides of my lids
may be filled with you
like the kind of movie
I want to watch over and over
but I struggle
between wanting to keep watching
and not wanting to miss the real thing
when my eyes are closed.
 
I know you walk in the village of kings
while I have played pixie with Christmas elves;
our paths will not cross under tonight’s moon
but still I sit in silence bathed
in this white glow
just to feel
connected





december 2010