Kiss the joy as it flies. As i have been staring blankly out a bank of floor to ceiling windows in front of me a squirrel keeps darting back and forth. The rivers are at a seasonal high these days, the roaring fork river earning her name with power and near deafening volume. the skies have been bluebird and perfect, the weather finally warm and delicious. Roaring rivers and blue skies-. Mountain peaks and ocean waves.

A poem written, or a book read, every now and then. Setting out on a new path. From the tops of the panes. Pasted to the glass inside. It blows and wails outside;.

Do you feel what i feel or. Should we just let go. What is it gone take. Was it the heart ache. Should i ponder on it. Leave it as it be. As i love on her. Im lost in my past. I wanna make it last. But every thing happens so fast. Will i get past the present. Or will i forever present the past. But do i really wanna know the truth. Will it really set me free.

I trace my finger across the spines on the shelf with a tissue box bookend. The hard covers of my soft spot. The memoirs of our memories I know by heart. I reach the chronologically final arch. And retrace a quarter of the way back. To the defined bind that caught my mind. We splinter our bamboo along the perforated seam. The whole made to be halved. How fortunate I am to have your half to miss.