Like the pale purple tinge of sky
that you missed
when you watched the sun set
over the sea.
Like the rounded stone on the river bed
that you stepped on
as you crossed the turbulent stream
Like the lines of unstructured verse
you do not read
but say you will, someday
when you have the time.
For our paths to cross again
for reflections of the purple sky
composed in flowing rivulets
to be captured in verse.