the apple orchard ii

in the shade of the telephone pole,
along the ruled sidewalks,
i'll unlock another phrase about you.

when i slide the floss between my teeth,
and i lay my toothbrush beside the sink,
i'll look up and somehow still see you.

on the road that never bends,
criscrossed by concession lines,
i'll see your mirage in the distance ahead.

as the pipe waits for me,
as i complete another line,
i'll stop somewhere waiting for you.