Hidden as strawberries,
mysterious as the moon
shadowed by thin wisps
of clouds. Floating
through your head, abundant
as the spring sky full of dandelion seeds.
Sudden as the gleam
of wild eyes on a midnight road.
So many times.
Missives sent long distance
on fire, streaking tales of light
landed here in drifts and
overflowing drawers and
musty attic trunks accumulating
year by year, these ordinary wonders,
these letters addressed
to your invisible singing self.
