You ask
where ‘will you be this time next year‘
While I
look past your shoulder at some shiny thing
Your smile
says ‘I must be patient with her mind‘
I see
hummingbird contemplate a sip of nectar
Your look
repeats the question with another tone
I say
Yes I shall look here deep into my bowl
We know
All that will be is there to know
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Heron and me
Wind and sea
Space between us
Watcher and watcher watching
Am I alone here
Or part of a whole
Belonging is fleeting
Questions lift and fly
Melody of swash carries
Choirs from other shores
Night birds glide to clouds
I survey you surveying
Graceful hunter
Sky draws her shades
I choose a stone to throw
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Pencil on paper. Images arise. Message received.