The cabin

you told me there was a pass, where we could see the next mountain chain, so off we went .. the sky looked different there, & moving from unblemished Lisbon blue skies, to melancholic, ever changing Spanish ones, took some gentle readjusting as the hours melted, playing a game of guessing the time, I watched you pour a deep black cup of coffee — suddenly, it's close to dusk where do the days go? to the mystery hole of where all spent-days live, a strange place, holding all our combined multitudes but I've always known we are on borrowed time, so each and every walk matters as the path is laid spread out before us, hands clasped, for a brief moment everything feels eternal