Fourth season of a hefty year
Five more to go before this one is out
Fraught looks across tables that aren't there
A conversation, input, sitting down with
the people who are on a slightly different page
Where were we? How did we get where are we going?
Lost queries in sidelong glancing blows, ricochets
from side to gleaming ocean
Remembering but not remembering the days
when it all happened without trying
when the river ran through it, not over it
I find myself distracted
Lost following the directions you scrawled on the
paper that was on the side table
in fading ink from the pen that you
refused to replace
But I was driving
Roman Ryan 