Like borders to infinity,
you and I...
There to nowhere,
edges to slabs of nothing,
refrained by distance only,
alone t' each other,
with roots to feed ourselves
from one another.
The little world we nurture's dead
once leaves and flowers
now fertile bed to sorrow watered
seeds...
Planted by winds,
nothing to follow,
awaiting careful gardeners
to root us out,
unworthy, purple offerings
to gods of flesh,
of steel,
concrete and power.

Nothing to follow
each day's tomorrow...