I Can't Bake

I can not bake

another cake

and pull it from the oven

to taste the sweet cream

and not wonder where you are –

I could travel across the ocean to

your strange land and smell

the acrid timber

beckon.

Watch the new city faces

who see me blank with

undescriptive stares.

Still - I wind my way through

to your familiar

calling presence as my

sweet steady navigation

pulls -

Through traveling,

soft always againing

each and every movement to

where blue wellsprings

gurgle with

tall long tales and curious

bystanders -

a reststop now

as your scent declines

and I wonder

if

the season is too raw

this new spring too wet

collapses where I am.

And I sleep to gain my finding

strength

with disappearance songs

that remind me of your

taste.