Vacancy

You're probably not out there

I've spent years looking

My yesterdays outnumber my tomorrows

I know how your laughter will sound, and when

It will make it impossible for me to be an atheist

Your whispers will sound sacred and profane

How legible you will be

A drop of ink in a cup of milk

We will conspire to find the secret

Of improving upon what can be done alone

But you have not appeared

I have mistaken others for you, of course

It is easy to mistake a pigeon for a dove

When you know nothing about birds

There is till time, though

Not much

I am dropping feathers every morning

Do not hesitate

It will be enough to be recognized

To be understood, and enjoyed anyway

Before there is nothing to understand

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