you were taller then I thought you’d be

that’s OK with me

ripples out in all directions

the quiet coup of me and you

throwing over

the old regime

more? I wonder

though this would be quite enough

it’s too much for a song to bear -

so imagine my heart

though it’s not called that anymore

in this most modern of miracle times where electrons call the shots  

nature’s kindness withers and falls from the vines ‘round heaven (closed & shuttered)

yet angels are laughing around your hair

casually brushed back by the same hands that spell out another language as you speak

I listen not as much to the words but rather the tone

we’re in translation and the transatlantic of the 1920s -not sure of getting there but going anyway

how we travel that’s one thing

it’s not where you’ve been it’s how you were when you were there

That’s what grand-dad used to say

though that heavy accent inherited from escaping coal mines till those green eyes

spied the Shenandoah

here if you put your back into it

the earth gives back

supplements amounted to the wind the sun and the rain

though it’s wonder (full) now time to be alive

between the programmed signs