how many people are making love right now
while I sit here meditating?
As this thought floats around in the expanse behind my eyes,
I hear the melodious bells of the T-Mobile commercial
jingling from the wall that separates me and my neighbor. Whether
she’s imagining couples copulating or debating which cell phone plan is best for her communication needs,
I'm not sure.
She may be fast asleep while the TV talks to the air,
her alarm clock ticking through each moment.
"I was thinking about you today," my mother said to me over the phone.
I wonder if I was on her mind earlier that morning,
right when I walked past the rain-soaked ivy,
my wandering fingertips lifting some of the clear globe drops from the green shine.
Or later in the afternoon, as I sat by my window writing poems,
the grace of just-before-twilight swirling in a breeze off the river. I noticed a cat
lounging by a window across the street and imagined
that the cat, too, was toying around with imagery,
consulting that scary thesaurus of its brain,
thinking about nothing at all, or everything.
Maybe it was just holding the all cat things we could never understand
in the corner of its eyes.
I walk, I sit, I lightly touch
all that is lifting and sinking in the gentle hum of the world.
I wonder what you could be doing at this hour.
Perhaps right now, at this very moment,
you are picking up your office phone
and carefully dialing my number
to deliver the results of my biopsy.