Selected Poems
Lost Count
There is no need for patience, being
able to count a million minutes
between this and the last time.
No one should recall even one of thousands of steps
taken across crushed glass, through broken ground
or over still hot coals.
How far you and I have wandered
lost among trees where we yearned
to find a perfect forest.
Everyone sings a long and winding road that
steadily climbs uphill. A footpath you and I have
worn, always circles around to home.
Now, we can see ourselves as new, leafless
forgiven from a different direction to become
someone who never counts, minutes.
able to count a million minutes
between this and the last time.
No one should recall even one of thousands of steps
taken across crushed glass, through broken ground
or over still hot coals.
How far you and I have wandered
lost among trees where we yearned
to find a perfect forest.
Everyone sings a long and winding road that
steadily climbs uphill. A footpath you and I have
worn, always circles around to home.
Now, we can see ourselves as new, leafless
forgiven from a different direction to become
someone who never counts, minutes.