in small towns the fall broke
washed up and rose
went out for walks
craved nothing but time/not on my side
the waves could never align

fourteen days, drifting at sea
hands on guardrails/you----

borne up by our words
we lived silent film
I asked if they wouldn't mind
I'd sit facing the wall
this remarkable recess
something very good, and very different

fourteen days, vast lands for free
our hands on guardrails and/you----

wordless, this world would show

it all went back to the trip at sea
"you're wrong," but was I really
the lighthouse scene was the last
the travel had come to a close/you----

-08/23/13