There is a tall crane
and there is an airplane
They are not on a collision course.
The sky, swollen, has coursed
to shadows, to an
undifferentiated gloom.
On days like this
I imagine my shadow
and yours, far away
are for a time again in
superimposition.
I do not love it or hate it.
I just note the fact.
For posterity, I guess
I think you don't think about it.
I think you don't note the fact.
For posterity, perhaps.
Either this is real,
or the other thing is.
The thing where we're on an escalator
and one of us has jumped to the other side.
It doesn't seem to matter who.