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.