she sat on the book--

she sat on the book

and covered its words,

passed a coffee

between her left and right hands,

switching between my left and right eye

while our neighbors stop with us

to listen and we don't care

because it's that real and that okay--

I feel in touch with humanity tonight,

without Walt's help for once,

since I never asked her to sit,

yet here we relate while it's cold outside

and the world files in to warm,

distracted by each other or happy to be alone,

seeking out the light, not pretending in either case--

my friend never showed,

but tonight, the night is so dark,

and we are drawn to all kinds of light,

making it okay to drift and be content in drifting--

the Homeric connection will bind us

and close the gaps of seas,

touch together banks of rivers,

old hounds again on the hunt,

fresh scents in their noses,

forever linked to one another

even when separated.