I begin by remembering something always different
From the poem by Yevtushenko, just called Waking
Think on that
Just, for the moment, think on
Some things, same things
Yet always different
Without then their past connections or disconnects
Afloat in space, without landing, without mooring
Awash with the newness of it all together
The marvel, the meander, the wondering why
And how in the shower the radio plays
Back there, in your en-suite bedroom
There are echoes, sing-alongs
Songs of love, with differences no longer intended
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