At a bus
stop I sat
waiting no not 
for the bus
but for you 
for this was
the very place 
where I first
laid eyes upon 
for hours I
sat there and 
those turning into 
days and those 
then into accepting 
that it was
never about a
bus but being 
there where you
would be when 

I only dream
of has beens 
and what might’ves
but I never 
dream about the
maybe so’s and 
what if one 
day if only’s
so dreams aren’t 
really ever dreams 
but only hauntings 
of what happiness 
used to be 
and never about 
what it may

Maybe I missed 
be it arrow
or maybe call 
to find out 
that it’s over 
before it began 
I thought we
engine and caboose 
chugging right along 
around the bend
into the valley 
high above sea
until looking back 
I noticed that 
you were no
longer behind me 

Longing for what 
is that isn’t 
yearning for what
has never been 
both are musings 
of things missing 
one of thirst 
the other hunger 
a simple sip
will never satisfy 
a tiny morsel 
will never sate
oh such sorrow 
this slow suffering 
of love’s starvation