errol miller
EXCHANGE
Someday
the right words will come
and I will tell you
quaint tales
of the Old Southwest,
of buffalo
and the way I really feel
about you.
But until then
we shall in silence
plow the autumn wind
and point our faces Earthward
in a temporary gesture of sorrow.
Someday
the blue of the sky
shall blanket us
in completeness
as our eyes
meet again
and we exchange
a meaningful trust,
a new brand
of communication
as yet undiscovered . . .
