how many coffees or water
alone has this ancient
coaster held beside me
over all the years
writing code and poems
responding to others
or they to me always trying
to be there for each one
and yet needing to be far
away where the iconic sun
waits shining mutely 
from its flat surface
to be given a voice
unique as all voices

the postman owes me
for keeping him happier
though he doesn't know it
and i always do
every garbage day move
the careless neighbor's bins
blocking the mailboxes
to save the postman trouble

i considered leaving a note
to educate the neighbor
but hope remains they will
question why their bins move
so far from where they were

or maybe it's just me
who notices little things
and has to learn the answers

night walks
under the unknown
Boundary all around
stars still in time
   too far
as we are over
here walking around
paths lit by our own
small globes, out short
to such intimate
   boundaries
between what we can
and can barely see
even further still
   to where
imagination? intertwined
with all we can
possibly sense
   (to know)

i've never written a poem
about my dad dying or mom
likely for the same reason
i didn't attend the gatherings
of the people who knew them
but i don't yet know
what that reason is
and poetry would bring me there
to find out things
i'm not certain
i want to know