I'm just a still spot in a moving world.
I'm a headlight on a night road--
a moving object in a large stillness.
I'm not the same as I was
this morning, last week, or last year,
but my name is the same, and I still get my mail
general delivery, from the old clerk or the new.
See the sky? It doesn't care
if we kiss or turn our separate ways.
I'm not waiting for you,
but I'm here just the same,
seeming still but always in motion
like stars, like wheels, like a heart beating softly to itself.
______
for Sunday Muse #56.