To hear such silence from one who speaks so much
Can mean, for us, but one unhoped-for thing:
That some stray word of mine has kicked the crutch
You use to walk and left you teetering.
Or you, perhaps, have felt forgotten
today throughout my wanderlusting ways
that lead from place to place and often
combine to keep me far from you for days.
Or worse, that both these things are true at last
Which means I've doubly lost my sense of you:
My natural fractures threaten spreading fast
To briskly break the bond that binds us two.
But maybe hasty thoughts present a threat
As well. They're one more thing I can regret.