shouldn't there be a sunrise,
shouldn't there be singing birds?
there should be sky peeking through the foliage,
there should be flowers among the ferns.
at the end of this journey i am
struck most by the emptiness, i thought there
would be songs, i thought the rhymes
would arrange themselves in quatrains,
in neat stanzas all spelling out your name.
shouldn't your name be important,
shouldn't your face be close to mine?
there should be wind between the elm trees,
there should be peace between our tongues.