Wanderlings

Sunlight kisses my eyes, slanting through lobby windows across old furniture and yellow-and-green carpet. and mare's tails, drifting, whisper of more good to come - dry days are ahead. I see you and I see light making these simple things out of darkness and when the sun kisses my eyes I want to kiss it back, and I do, with head full of words and eyes richly speaking. You've said things I remember and don't and I've said things I remember and don't but I remember most when words stopped and our language was spoken through light beams and darkness.