Sarah, I started another poem for you
Months ago
It had all your favorite things
A cat with a stubby face
Details that reveal
You are seen
By me
A kind of story
If a recitation of the habitual
Were the account of a life
I guess it is

I went to Detroit
To be alone
But have found you in this place too
It's less humid than Nashville
and the people don't smile at or talk to strangers
You'd love it

That other poem was trying
So hard to be everything
You wanted
I put it away because most of the time
I don't understand what you feel

What pulls at the corners of your eyes

That other poem
Wanted to answer the request
You always ask of me
This poem gets pretty much right to saying

I keep finding you
Even when
I thought the story
was somewhere else