Sit with me now

in different rooms,

beside me

at a distance. Come

drink a glass of wine onscreen

with me for old times’ sake, it’s good

for our stomachs too, I hear.

And do you like the view?

The sea is near,

a sparkling friend, it’s

just beyond

my balcony.

We’ll talk about the days

of traffic noise and

greeters’ kisses, handshakes,

rounds of drinks:

life’s hits and misses,

walk, or run

along the promenade;

the scent of food

from crowded restaurants,

bills footed, sounds

of children’s fun,

life was, if not always  good,

at least proxemic, with

the audio unmuted.

And then the links

were broken.

Now there’s greyness

just beyond

my balcony

and rain comes down,

(ain’t life a bitch),

but it will fill

the bowls I left there

for the birds to drink

and it will green

the land  

and we’ll get rich

from mining all that silver

from the lining

of the clouds.