RE-vision ... [accompanied by a slight smile with downcast eyes]
You are the relentless flap of wings across my endless sky.
Through cloud-into-cloud. Or. That last drop of rain that
clings to the edge of something lost. And far from shore.
Whereas I am a ladder. A metaphor that leans against this
double dead dusk, that reaches up into a fleet of incoming
stars. Which is where you last hid.
Merry Christmas, old friend ... for epic grace and gravitas.
Time is a watch.