Jan 9, 1999

In Again

Jolted into thankfulness, I
answer the window from the door
as if it were the greatest thing on earth.
In truth, it falls a close second
But who's counting?

More grateful for her return than
she will ever know, there is no time to
make myself presentable.
In silent avoidance of truth,
We pass the time casually

Maneuvering gracefully in the awkwardness,
My token nears the finish only to
return each time to somewhere in the
middle of the road.
In a moment, we will see the truth
In truth, we see more than any moment.