sweet Eloise, she
loves words; she loves their sounds and
also their rhythms.

I pine for her, but
alas, she’s an evergreen,
a cold weather tree.

(#1)

the treadmill rolls and
we work the week through without
gaining any ground.

a dog barks under
a tree outside and a cat
meows for her food.

… what you were meets what
you’ve now become, grins and says,
“hey, haven’t we met?”

(source)