Eleven Weeks

Since we last spoke The past eleven weeks The stacks of paper left me feeling Like sentience is not quite what it seems When we last wrote It was the sun and me With cliffs as high And fears as deep with my Magnum opus, my starry-eyed recitative The color on these trees It's like something from a movie Last night I smiled While laughing at a moonbeam We're all moving I felt awoke Our summer music spree My reflections on being cut free It's turning out to be the strength I need I hope you know That there's still joy for me In fleeting moments I take relief In my suspicion that these past months Were a dream You should see these trees It's like something from a movie And when she smiles The earth's no longer moving The thought's soothing