netis yamamoto

Send me a sign:

a blink of light

at the end of a distant jetty

footprints in my flowerbed

a wink as I’m nodding off

a daisy on my doorstep

Some

small

gesture

to stir the memories

caught on the barbed wire

of our mutual fence.

Send me a sign;

a feather fallen from

hope as she flew by,

now lost to sight

in the cumulus overhead.

Wet my fleece

leaving the ground dry.