walked across the lot -

through the night’s clouds, saw starlight -

knew things would be fine

Day 2556

two rows of machines,

floor of scuffed black-and-white tiles

mural on the wall

we talked on the phone

trying to navigate seas -

rocky, uncharted

in the monitor,

I saw my face reflected,

and all the wrinkles

the intersection

held broken pieces of glass,

crushed by passing cars

against the dusk sky,

the railroad’s blinking red lights

stand in stark contrast

she asked where I’d been,

where was I getting breakfast,

if not at Benji’s?

I’ve read the verses,

and am reminded today -

love is limitless

Monday was tai chi;

yesterday, gentle yoga;

today, a brisk walk

—–

Day 2548b

where the current slowed,

a film of ice attempted

 to span the river

—–

Day 2548bc

while I was moving,

the trail seemed clear – I looked back

and it blended in