Existence

1.

Are we the ones

to make music,

dream dreams,

sitting sorting

by the sea's edge:

or anywhere where

we had spent an

afternoon:  with

all the timeless gestures

we had built cities,

captured the rain,

dispensed the pain

that can trample an

afternoon down.

2.

We, as if life had been

happy, touched each other's

music, each other's reams of

dreams:  letting your black

hair down, with that familiar

look, parting your lips as if

to go, I could not fear anymore:

I would run to the shore, pretend

that sand could cover nothing:

especially an afternoon.