Eleven Weeks

Since we last spoke
 The past eleven weeks
 The stacks of paper left me feeling
 Like sentience is not quite what it seems
 When we last wrote
 It was the sun and me
 With cliffs as high
 And fears as deep with my
 Magnum opus, my starry-eyed recitative
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 The color on these trees
 It's like something from a movie
 Last night I smiled
 While laughing at a moonbeam
 We're all moving
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 I felt awoke
 Our summer music spree
 My reflections on being cut free
 It's turning out to be the strength I need
 I hope you know
 That there's still joy for me
 In fleeting moments I take relief
 In my suspicion that these past months
 Were a dream
 You should see these trees
 It's like something from a movie
 And when she smiles
 The earth's no longer moving
 The thought's soothing