In the distance of a doorframe,
we can only be described
as seconds apart.
And yet, decades span the silence.

You question old songs
while I consider new ideas.
Neither of us notices
this accidental drift.

Sparks flutter with life
phosphorescent, breathing.
But between two lights,
that brightness is lost.

In milky brown and shining puddles
I’m lost for decades.
We are seen, if briefly.
But forget again too fast.