POEM
I think
until the pain goes
and the flowers fall off the trees
and the leaves dim
in Africa for all time.
All day I dreamed
she was dressed in river;
in the sea I would have drowned,
even as I smell faintly
of fish, and the cat
sleeps on me so I
feel a little more interested
in perspective and limits.
I text her
what it is like
to be sitting quietly.