I seem to be
Really good at long
Distance things friends lovers
I have often wondered
If maybe I’m a
Black hole invisible in
Space but no I
Think that I’m a
Sun too hot to
Touch too far to
Orbit but just close
Enough to be seen
Wondered about and warming
I imagine that my
Heart is like a
Bus filled with tourists
On their way to
The Vatican each with
It’s own purpose many
To be splendidly wowed
Others for the gelato
A few for blessings
Each elbowing the others
For room some even
Saying mama mia as
They’re pressed like garlic
So many so packed
Believing that there’s something
There at the end
Stuck in the middle
Between hither and nigh
Rock and hard place
The present and past
Squeezed in vices jaws
You simply can’t breathe
There’s that thing over
There that once was
Sweet comfortable and succulent
But has now soured
And this thing here
Plump exciting and promising
Cautious teasing and playful
Turning away from one
And towards the other
Causes a hearts thunderstorm
Cold and warm fronts
Colliding and me the
Kansas town hunkering down
Hoping for the best
Sitting on a tray
In a cold case
People point and ogle
Think and wonder and
Sometimes yes often no
Like men in bars
And puppies in pounds
Or flowers in fields
All knowing that we
Are something something more
Than we appear to
Be if they’d only
Pick us and see
It’s always a surprise
When soul’s finally reconnect
Having been cast randomly
About like dice thrown
And skeetering off tables
Or bars declared cocked
And forced to do
Over souls really are
No more than dice
Thrown found and read
Nothing when just one
Yet something when paired
Or more with similarly
Found ones like themselves
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 