To a Friend I Have Not Seen for a Long Time
by Theodora Goss

What are the clouds doing
where you are?
Are they building castles
high in the blue dome
we call the sky?
Are they forming themselves
into landscapes?

What is the sea doing?
Has it stopped, even for a moment,
crashing into and slowly,
slowly wearing away the shore?
Is it still smoothing
shells, pebbles?

Is the yarrow blooming
in the side yard, like small
yellow buttons?

Are the sea oats on the dunes
rattling their seed pods,
as though telling the world
be quiet, there is value
in just listening?

Is the paint on the old clapboard house
wearing away? And are the pelicans
still hanging suspended
in the air, like kites
flown by invisible children?

What are you doing with your life?
Tell me all the news:
everything that has been happening
to you, and not happening,
which is, potentially,
more important.

(The image is Eleanor, 1907 by Frank Weston Benson.)