There’s the picture on the big church ceiling
where the older fellow reaches for the hot young thing.
Got it? Well, forget the picture and focus on the fingers –
after all, it’s the gap that stays in our memory.
So, their fingers don’t touch and the sky shines through –
what does that make you think I wonder?
(Rhetorical question by the way.)
It made me think of our fingers pointing
that imagined day on the soft-sand beach
pointing together
pointing to the sky
scratching a chalk-white cloud line across the chalky blue.
Two heads, two hearts, two hands, one line.
A line from where to somewhere
A line that never ends.