bounding through time


i can still see you walking away:
summer; autumn; everything orange;
cold as dust; the space between stars;
until i saw you again.

i can still feel the time:
winter; spring; weaving between us;
catastrophizing; melting; i'm
weaving between us

something solid.

if all the worlds must come to dust
if all our words must bend and rust
if all this whirls away 
i trust

whatever's left of my—of me–
this stream of spry sincerity,
this glen of glee, without goodbye,
with all the try i've left, i'll see

you,

somewhere,
sometime,

soon.