January
Dull the day,
gunmetal gray and careless with rain;
a wet hum and click from
the glistening windows.
My thoughts are dredged from a far place,
deep memory unbidden.
All the days unnamed, uncelebrated, knotted somehow to you.
You, the dreamer,
me, the misunderstood, reaching
for a new language:
babble, babble, babble.
We, a soaring collapsible pair, not always
with enough thanks in us.
And then silences with forgiveness at their end.