ten million

                   i wanted to send
                    you
                   the poems i've written
                   since
                    the first day.
                   but
                    there are only
                      a few
                     (or eight)
                      on paper.
                   the rest
                    the ten million
                    are lingering wisps
                       floating  tossing
                    invisible to most.
                    light trails of memory
                        etched through time
                     striking cadences
                     playing tag
                    camouflaged
                     by windless breezes.
                   I wanted to send
                    you
                   the poems i've written
                   but
                    i didn't want
                    to interrupt
                     your life
                    or
                    seem
                    ungrateful
                   for the MOMENT we shared
                    by sending
                     eight poems...
                   When there's
                     really
                     so many
                        more.