Telling: Streams & Logs


will you forget


There's a certain morning heat
that blanks the sky
and renders even close distance

The way falls to generalities —
What is here below. What is there ahead.
The lulling safety of a well-rehearsed motion.

When at last you open the door,
the heat —

which somehow you forgot,
but hasn't forgotten you,
has been waiting for you,
patiently —

cocoons you in welcome, makes you 
instantly his own.

Will you forget everything?