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Write me a letter today, maybe tomorrow –
Telling me how your day was –
This day and yesterday and the day before.
Tell me about your garden and flowers, the paintbox of colour your window is.
Tell me about the crowded motionless times we live in,
the ebb and flow of new silences,
all the new sounds in your new home…
Tell me also about the creeper growing against the backyard wall, has it begun to bloom?
And the fall trees…their gold coats of the gone year.
The wind dancing in the empty black nights, whistling endlessly.
Tell me about that cup of coffee you brew when the day is just a few threads of grey
Tell me how age is a number you’ve begun to notice…
especially on winter nights when the knees hurt…
Tell me everything… Or just a few things, the easy ones –
I’ll laugh with you and we’ll laugh together… and for a few moments
we’ll pretend there’s nothing more to life than this –
Then the ebb and flow of silences, faint sounds can be.
Laughing Penguins 