Here, I offer you this gift
a small token of my appreciation,
though you sense my hesitancy
as I ponder whether to walk across
the railway tracks and find you.

You know, it was hard –
this long overdue notice will tell you,
the fines incurred in your absence were hefty
and I wanted to write letters,
lines and lines bursting with news of everyday matters
about things that irked and people that hurt,
about fallen oak trees and adventures discovered in darkened alleys,
about glorious sunsets and early morning stillness,
and everything in between –
about the night you left and the fog that settled in
leaving behind a dream that crashed;
it now sleeps in the pocket I always nagged you to mend,
you lost much change, and some hard-earned cash too
but never learned to listen, always heedless
to the anxiety you could never discern.

I forgave you though, and you knew I would
and this gift I’ll give till our next parting,
till you realize I’d write all the words in the world for you –
light and dark,
shy and bold,
swift and still,
and we’ll take them all,
every trying, unfathomable syllable
and tie them into ropes of endurance
so these words will withstand the challenge that is
a musty hardcover now out of print,
or a labyrinth of histories carved out in the space of a time
too small for everything, but falling in love
with heartfelt gifts and warm awakenings.