Gratitude

I want to tell you about
the cereal I ate or
pigeon footprints
in wet cement,

but scarcity warrants
demand and these
heady grass days
have been hard to come by.

I wonder if all fools are
too foolish to rush
too unlucky to run
or to trust their feet but

it’s nice to see you;
it’s nice to be seen.
to catch your glance
growing tacky with heat—

you no longer
a stranger—I thought
I knew everything
until now.