the last call crowd found me
gazing, through the window, outside.
last time here i gazed at you,
no interest in the passersby.

but things change;
glad your dad’s doing better
- unlike that night
when you were frightened
by uncertainty,
and nothing pleased me
more than simply
being
             there
                          for you.

though I pine for her,
I know she’s an evergreen,
a cold weather tree.

photo: jordan meeter