She was very unique

She was very unique. There were many things that were not quite unique, of course. For example, the fact that she was quiet and private and didn’t talk about herself. But those things about her that she did not tell were rather unique. I would love to describe them here for you. The problem is, she didn’t talk about them to me either, so I don’t really know. I could generalize, extrapolate from other people, and invent, but it wouldn’t be about her, would it?

Sloth in the tree

There's a sloth in the tree -
A branch has moved.  But I can't see it.
Or was it just the wind?
Does it even matter if there's a sloth in the tree if I can't see it?

Maybe there's a sloth in the tree,
Maybe he does like me...
Does it even matter if I can't see it?

Thought prints

They came and left – the thoughts. They didn’t linger. Small thought prints in the memory: a thought was here, but which one? 

I should go too, not looking for them, just go… for a walk, you know.

Wet Noise

It's a habit to walk and to look for a rhyme,
It's a song with the rain, by the rain about nothing.
White noise, wet noise, faster than any drum.
Diri diri diri rum.

Maybe the answer

Maybe the answer will come.
Maybe the question will go...

Second chance

You always get the second chance
But every time with someone else

Anyway

I didn't ask for a poem from you,
I didn't ask for a memory of sparks.
But you gave therm to me anyway.