Ambience

What if you wore stripes, and I a hat.
What if you said, "You're lovely."
What if I sipped soy chai, and you an espresso.
What if Fennesz was our ambience.
What if I thought it was the table leg.
What if you looked up.
What if I smiled.
What if you hadn't written.
What if we weren't in tune.
What if what if we never met.

Eighteen Yearlings

A quiet traveler pauses mid-step
Amid a woven wood of pine green
Evoking locked emotions, he dreamt
Of eighteen yearlings dancing in routine.
As lavender greets starry sky his spirit leapt
Hearing the happy flute of thrush by ravine;
With pipe and pen he composes this footstep,
As vibrant leaves meet shoulders green.