by Ben Simon
Back when I searched through wanton weeds for the lone lotus flower
The seasons all looked the same
And my indifference would not glide away
The summer equinox was oblivion
Until I met you on a blossoming hill overlooking your hometown
And I realized that the weeds were vestigial.
Our paths often crossed, no matter how many forks
We made light of Tiger Beat and left darkness for the birds and fish
I’d trade paperbacks for your warmth and intellectualism
And everything would always shine with you
As you’d fill me in on who was shallow and who devious
While we chatted by the lake.
As another sun dies down to Earth
I think of stars we should have crossed
I talk of shrinks who said “give up”
But, clenching our story tight
I must be on my way to the moon
Where we can count the constellations in our private hemisphere
And believe that nothing is absurd.