he watches the ground
as I count the clouds
we walk down the street
without making a sound
the pavement's uneven
so we measure our steps
and we leave what was kept
for time to recollect
I may, for a moment
bind our eyes without thought
and borrow excuses
to burn beliefs that I bought
wind erases the warmth
left behind as we pass
where we stood for a moment
until the moment wouldn't last
Wes Thompson