Poetry: In Motion

The day you meet me for the first time.
What will you say? “Hello” Perhaps?

When you are close enough to feel my warmth.
Will you pull away? or will you tremble?

Will you forget how old we are?
Would you jump in the rain?

Do you care about the mud in the car?
Will you help me make the windows opaque, one breath at a time?

Will you let me go, after our first hello?
Will you let me be, and you continuing to be you?

Neither of us need to change. Not you, not me.
But we will change nevertheless. Because life is motion, and stillness an illusion.

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Gay

nice