Left to Wonder

There's light easy pleasure left to simple words sitting in grocery cart parking lots, and sleeping children and I wonder if you feel it with me.

There's symmetry of unnoticed curiosity looking up to that four corner lightpost, off until dusk and I wonder if you see it with me.

There's slightly different something perfect in every slow song radio note, background to listening thoughts and I wonder if you hear it with me.

There's that which becomes so nearly captured shy in this, one, word that is so finely close, but never quite and I wonder if you speak it with me.

Why we turn ourselves away to not meet the real eye of each other,
her walking or him standing, all of us looking about us alone or moving together talking yet still missing what it means to really listen to steps inside each others' footprints giving way to passing moments and every time losing just a little something,

Lost intrigue tells our story always simple in moments when we sit small and speechless, everything vulnerable, but never each or all of us at once and I'm left just wondering if you might meet me, here - where I am, and understand.