The wind died down, but you weren’t around to hear it.
You know the sound just the same.

The sun dropped down below the western horizon.
Like it does every day, but you didn’t call my name.

With you out east, I wasn’t all there.
Not all here now, not at all.
For what’s a coast with no ocean?
What’s grass with no ground?
Yet what’s sight without blindness?
What is silence without sound?

Rooster crowed up here atop the mountain.
Woke me at dawn but no one else.

Red-eyed & bleary, I come up with a theory
how diporias nestle and meld.

Past-Present-Future,
Old & Modern, Once.
Far away & closer still
two never undone.

Past-Present-Future,
Old & Modern, Once.
Far away & closer still
two never undone.

With you out east, I wasn’t all there.
Not all here now, not at all.
For what’s a coast with no ocean?
What’s grass with no ground?
Yet what’s sight without blindness?
What is silence without sound?

What’s a coast with no ocean?
What’s grass with no ground?
What’s sight without blindness?
What is silence without sound?

(6/27 & 6/29 – Adams Point, Oakland, California & Camp Panorama, Quincy, California)