of a pale summer room
I reach beyond plaster and stone
to hear the word of the crickets
listening in as they signal and chirp
hiding in the vast black yard
past the driveway below.
I think about you in the formidable night
I wonder what you’ve been thinking,
what you’re dreaming, and where . . .
I think of those things you tell only me
thoughts of abandon and impracticality
"thoughts of luxury" you call them
yet I can’t help but wonder
if you’ve shared those guarded thoughts
with somebody before, somebody after
and yes, yes I even wonder what they mean
But you are gone
and so are they
as I sit thinking
with nothing but crickets
singing
hungry
alone
sending top secret codes
in the vast black yard.
.
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