Some say it’s the wind that brings us together
battered and broken.
Here it is we gather –
wherever “here” is, I suppose.
I can’t find fullness
but I can see the colors
of the evening sky mesh
blue to purple to pink to orangish;
without the clouds it’s like they are all one.
But it comes too early.
I was only away for a moment
and already the world has turned dark.
It’s too early.
How can it come together,
for only just a moment?
Can we, too, do the same this eve?
Let the wind bring our broken selves
to this corner of the sea
where at least we won’t be alone
for a while.