Pushing a decade or so ago, now
before we knew who
or what we were
you were traveling
Your words popped up periodically:
“Gas is stupid expensive here,”
“Do you know this song by Ween?”
“I’m lying on a picnic table somewhere in Virginia, looking up
but it’s cloudy and I can’t see what the moon looks like from here.”
So I sent you a picture from my bedroom window, looking out
The moon in a clear sky, small and grainy in the black.
When you returned you said it took you twice as long to get where you were going
because of all the conversation
I apologized and you said that it was worth it
just to see the moon from where I was.
Tonight I’m waiting
The moon is high above the highway and the brake lights on the cars ahead
remind me of the way we used to talk
about the fluid physics of time.
Tomorrow night, from somewhere in Virginia
you’ll step out of the car and let me know
you’re headed home.