You’ve asked that question again, and then
dropped your head, posing so purposefully in thought
and I stare blankly at your hair, hanging in suspension
like us, hung, in some past memory of ours
or perhaps in a future dream
I see your life before me (and I search for me in the picture)
Is it that we have so many roads and no time?
or so much time and not enough road?
I have no answer,
– Chris George