How long since was it,
I called you out, and your voice,
Booming and familiar
Sounded back.

We conversed the sun,
And named the stars,
In parking lots, fast food in cars,
We grew old in pubs together.

The past is this great big place,
Snowy fields on endless plains,
Where footsteps sprawled,
Lead back to this single point.

How come I lack the words,
For such a worthy moment,
When I describe minute details
In the most minor irrelevant thing?

You vanished, as I remain,
In waiting for something profound,
To begin, searching for that
Last great wilderness within.