Eleven Weeks

Since we last spoke

The past eleven weeks

The stacks of paper left me feeling

Like sentience is not quite what it seems

When we last wrote

It was the sun and me

With cliffs as high and fears as deep

With my magnum opus, my starry-eyed recitative

The color on these trees

It's like something from a movie

Last night, I smiled

While laughing at a moonbeam

We're all moving

I felt awoke

Our summer music spree

My reflections on being cut free

It's turning out to be the strength I need

I hope you know

That there's still joy for me

In fleeting moments, I take relief

In my suspicion that these past months were a dream

You should see these trees

It's like something from a movie

And when she smiles

The earth's no longer moving

The thought's soothing