Waiting for a bird
Endings and beginnings have no lines,
not like the ones by your eyes,
or the numerous crosses you’ve made
over your heart.
There’s no meeting when there’s no leaving
and chance plays as well of a game
as any of us ever can.
There’s light along the way home
and heartbeats that terrify us
but let us know it’s not over, not yet.
there’s no resemblance
and what you would’ve been.
Don’t rush, don’t be too eager, don’t be too long.
This uncertainly may be too much to
shoulder for much longer.
This dance doesn’t have anything
but improvised steps
and you’re well ahead of me.
And you always will be.