But Not


The day is fleeting,
but not my thoughts
of you.

My rooms grow dark
early as my windows
face north. With

blinding late afternoon
sun bouncing off the
building across from

me, I turn on my desk
lamp aware of the
night shadows starting

to form around me.
Thinking dinner; too
late for coffee.

Thinking you. I can
feel you but you aren’t
here.

The day is fleeting,
but not my thoughts
of you.