The Long Way

He's coming the
Long way
It's a really hot day

Softly, she whispers
Something he never heard
Whistling and wasting like
Summer-ruined curd

Lost to the wind maybe, and
Memories foregone
Loss is never present
Heart is never torn

Like toes between the golden sand
He waits, framed by mist
He can't see but he waits
For things on his list

Fortune weary, he emerges
She'll wait
For the song she likes, 'cos
Her mate

He's coming the
Long way
It's a really hot day