You Spoke To Me

You talk and talk,

and then you stop.

Collecting my thoughts, you say,

Forming words, shaping sentences.

I look at you and look at you,

And I see you struggle.

My mind is blank, you say,

A slow shrug, a quick sigh.

Later I walk on a moonlit path,

alone.

I gaze at the moon shimmering in the puddles of the rice field.

Might you have formed your sentence here?

Or is this silver silence too thick to be broken?

Too delicate?

I think and think,

while the night grows.

Let my thoughts settle, I say,

Like this fog around me.