Places

The city bustles outside my window.
It never stops
just ebbs and flows 
like waves licking at the shores
of some distant place I have never been.

But I have been here before.

I sit in a familiar place
day dreaming about a familiar face;
I smile as I pass places 
where I have walked ...
there
and there
and there ...
where memories were laid out
along the ground
with every footprint left in tandem;
I search my mind ... and the skyline,
for places I have seen before -- 
been before --
in the cocoon of past company

The city never stops outside my window
inside the quiet is overwhelming 
because you're not here this time




january 2011