I think
that I recognize you
by the cut of your coat, friend
Is it possible that we once both made
the same
big time mistake?
Swore the same oath
to stare
straight into the sun
when our bodies were new
a thousand lives ago
or so.
Can we get back to the part
where it meant something real?
When we danced beneath
that turbulent paisley sky.
Are we supposed to
repeat the old script
we now know by heart
while infinity beckons
a mere eyelash away?
The ravens cackle on the line
without worry or apology
Old folks wail and tear their shirts
and dream of distant apogee.
© Robert Sommers
