Maybe there is no sitting
Or perhaps
The location has been changed
Without my knowing
Either way I will sit
I always have that within me
No need to search out others
Nor to feel discarded
But first
A few words to be written
On the beauty
Of the whole process
I came outside
Into this garden
To write of all
That I could feel
Or sense
Or touch
I did not expect
To hear your whistle
But then again
Occasionally
My expectations
Are not so high
