Seems a quiet resistance

comes alive when alone,

wondering about the now,

forgetting about the past,

or wanting to,

wishing we could.

The future is unknown

tomorrow we’ll wake again,

decide upon the morning,

a breakfast or simply juice.

Begin the day with coffee

reflecting on last night,

maybe last week,

wondering in the moment,

what’s next

a cup of coffee

new thoughts

trailing through my mind.

I wonder about her,

childhood,

just when we were kids,

filled with fantasy

and not even a remote awareness

all the years ahead of us.

What would it be like

if one day we wake,

and all those moments are gone,

and they’re just right now,

sitting in my chair

having a coffee

wondering about the day ahead,

wondering if she might ever know.

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