My gaze drifts over one who sleeps // in calm repose,
Beyond the chairback, // there, I see those hands unfold.
In golden sunlight, // like polished jade that glows,
Exuding cloud-soft grace // and tales that books have told.
Red hair that weaves // between the strands in flight,
Pink-blushed cheeks, // and eyes that hold your soul, is black.
Time traveling by, ticking away, // breaks the ride.

The train rests still at Lewistown, // this afternoon,
A woman clothed // in crimson clasps her child's small hand,
Standing patiently on the platform,
breathing the wind, // as my train pulls away,
Plastic buckets by the tracks, // in sunlight's spread,
Basking in that same // tender gaze so bright,
And winds that // through book pages gently fanned.

The city masks its longing // behind patches of green,
Awaiting sunlight's touch, // where children stay and play.
Shadows retreat as moments hold their way,
In soft breezes, warm // hands linger yet unseen.
At last, we stop // to draw a breath of light,
Our lungs fill slowly, // making silence speak and praise.

Two people, still // and silent in the sunlight.
Breathing, asking the same question.
Our bodies immersed deep within the light,
Like fish that breathe // while watching falling rain.
Where I already forgot // your smile and face,
Perhaps you need to think once more
About why We turn // to each other at the same moment,
Nothing said. Nothing sad.