It’s difficult to believe that lives
Lived thousands of miles apart
Can intersect, and become
Those are high aims, but
Where would my heart be without them?
Where would it be without chance?
Surely, loitering in the quietly
In the loneliest haunts of the city.
Arms limp and floundering
With no where to go.
This is a long way,
We too have a long way yet.
Do we have more travel in us yet?