Simple and beautiful,
beyond all time
dark green olives, cool cucumber
sliced white of onion glimmers
soft cool drops of guitar-notes
flow over the blue tile floors
music class, a place I could
 not follow you
You write of sheet music
I write of fear and dark clouds
You write of spring that is coming

Your words breathe bicycles 
and the courage of youth
Your words enter the maze
of this grown up life,
and find the girl you knew
to my surprise, lead her out
and the answer is simple.

In the marketplace
I buy flowers
you write of the new city
around you
I search for your eyes 
around every corner
You write of night practices 
on your guitar
I write of long ago music classes.

Somehow through the long night,
Your playing and my listening
come together across distance
and time
until in some vine-laden 
garden,
your sharp clear eyes follow
the shadows and lines of my face
asking, “How have you finally
made it through the mountains?”

Past and future collide.

© K. Grewal