touchdown

every morning i wake up lost
as a lone creature in an odd world

that cycles on regardless

of how i feel or whether

i can make meaning of it all

whether i can make meaning at all

a lover leaves. the leaves arrive.

this story is endless. lovers and leaves.

the sea fills with wind. the sun dips

to horizon, still fat, and vanishes 

at the line even though it seemed

for a second that it really won't,

that the vastness of the moment

would stay breathless and still.

but it keeps moving. it cycles on.

touching the ocean with a single toe

and seven minutes later, no sign left

of the unbelievable orb, just a bright

mist where it was swallowed by sea.

that's going to be me. just some

decades to go, breathless moments,

lovers and leaves, learning and lostness.

the sharp smell of mint in the early morning.