Ode To A Wayfarer

You've forgotten all about me --
windmills and cornfields in between,
you traveled with ampersands
and sonnet-filled musings.

East to west,
west to east,

you've been south,
missing sunsets, drinking beer.

I was north:
Bashi Channel, group of islands,
old Philippine map...

...do I even make sense?

Another seagull will die again...
My heart is as broken as this compass
I've been trying to fix for a week now.

You are my atlas,
my aesthetic,

my poetry...

And I am just an unfinished metaphor
you never made room for.