a normal being

 anything that happens next 
will be a soft piece of land
so gently unyielded
on the other side of a chain link fence

I felt a welling up
when you gathered flowers 
on the side of the road
a triangle and looking 

there was room for me at the table
in a way that meant so much
as to almost embarrass me

here we are now
still astray 
but/and like knotted branches
bound and rebounding 
finding each other over the years