I see a light come shining
From the summer unto the winter.
To be here and then
After decades and now
Sharing the brightness of a star.
I know it because it was there. But I'm not there, I'm gone ...
to listening to myself surrounded once again.
There's enough place in the Red Room, four and twenty windows, a wet bar and a couple of sockets for whatever comes up. They'll feel glad. A certain way to miss each other consists in wanting to know what we would be now (what we would be again?)
Tomorrow is Sunday, a good day to start.