by Jeph Johnson
we were once two ships
passing dangerously close
in the cold deadly night time
under a dark cloudy grey
skyline of depression
and apprehension
-
now the days are longer
and I sing my songs
with no intent to crash
to a different girl
while the sun slowly rises
and the birds sing outside
-
without you
today
with her
-
it's only a
standard perfection
I can aspire
for the kind I glimpsed
last winter while
navigating so precisely
is unattainable
because...
ships can
no longer
pass in the night
with the sun shining