perhaps the greeks would have called it kairos

the delicate rightness of a moment

me in your kitchen, our time terribly wasted

as the evening surrenders itself to morning.

---

i have lately found myself in the most peculiar company

of people whose names i could not have told you in august

and whose absence i would now notice in a crowded room

how strange, i think

that somewhere between the laughter and the telling of some inconsequential story

i should find myself overcome by the simple pleasure of knowing you

sometimes i catch myself in the very act

and wonder what curious arrangement of time has brought us all here

to the same city, evening, table,

as though there were nowhere else we could possibly have been

and later, when the room grows quiet and the evening yawns with sleep

i find myself returning to the smallest of our hours 

the things we said and the ordinary business of being alive together

i do not know what to make of it

this sudden abundance of affection for people i have scarcely begun to know

except that i am grateful, and more than a little astonished

that of all the lives i might have lived, i should find myself so wonderfully entangled in yours