To Be Poem
To Be,
having not been for
so very long.
How long?
How long?
As long as the universe
and as wide
as her eyes
in this
silly
sad world;
and she looks
at the same moon
as I
and she moves her toes in the dirt
connected to the dirt under me.
Moon I say.
Moon,
so orange and blue.
You are a pathetic rock
without her eyes
to see you.