I don’t see you very much these days.

The blurring lines of the lanes
Capture my attention, speeding along rhythmically.
Speckles of white and grey and
Flashes of tooblue are all I see.

I don’t see you very much these days.
You’re hunched over your desk from dawn to dusk,
Lips pressed together, brow knotted tight.

I don’t hear you very much these days.
The symphony of keyboard clicks that you conduct
Flow through the air, the only sound to bless my ears,
Beating in the uneven tempo of your heart.

You don’t hear me very much these days.
It’s almost time, I said.  You shook your hair,
Mangled hands pulling through tangled strands.
You laughed, no, you roared,
You, the lion, and my words, the thorn in your paw.