A coffee shop, a blank pad
I forgot my name while I was writing about you
Learning to write your name
without writing your name
has been hard—but not impossible.
Turns out nothing’s impossible
Seeing mountaintops over the clouds?
That’s not impossible from the top of a mountain that sticks out over the clouds
or an airplane
Loving you without knowing you?
That’s not impossible from the top of a mountain that sticks out over the clouds
or an airplane
You’ve always been partial to my flights
Flights of fancy, flights of imagination
“I’m a traveling man,” I tell myself
when all I want to do is stay home with you
All the things I haven’t imagined have come true
While all the things I thought I needed just passed me by
Growing older, I feel a little out of touch
Time is running by, said a man reaching towards the middle of living
Those things are cliche
We come and go, this is truth
All things do, we tell ourselves
We rouse and rest, stand and fall, sleep and wake
All things do, they tell us
Even when we don’t make sense, we imagine we do
A boardwalk stroll in the drizzle
I forgot that we entwine like a pretzel
We inhale together
Without breathing at all
This has been hard—but not impossible.
Turns out nothing’s impossible
Adam F.C. Fletcher 