Search.

I search for You.

Outside of my front window i peer.

Onto dank sidewalks and heavy pavement,

Wet leaves pasted to the ground; orange and red and brown,

Shadowy tree limbs hang from a sleepy trunk,

A grave sky lays above, dull and insipid.

No one is outside.

Neither are You.

I search for You.

Around my quiet house i wander.

Into musty closets and forgotten attics,

Dirty clothes decorate a vacant room; sweaters and socks and shoes,

Lonely books poke out and stare from a corner,

A heavy ceiling pulls me in, to reality and now.

No one knows.

Neither do You.

I search for You.

Inside a stranger i seek.

Under faded gold strands and yellow cotton folds,

Perfect creases on chapped lips; mute and lonely and bare,

Weighty limbs fall toward anxious hands,

A heart beats and blood flows.

No one else.

Not even You.

I stand alone.

A dreamer.

A writer.

An artist.

A memory.

I stand alone.

And search for you.