Faring Well (Finally)
            arriving at the stark end of an unplanned odyssey
                on an everyfriday afternoon,
                    surrounded by a cacophony of greens
                        inviting my senses and seeking meaning
                    in a harbor of fragile, fleeting thoughts . . .
once perfect pictures decompose before my eyes,
    the pixels getting larger,
        then flying off formlessly, seeking escape--
            another illusion too impossible to sustain.

listening to songs in Portugese--
    a gift from a bronzed symbol
        of enforced solitude--
            not even a farewell
               in the glimmer of an empty screen . . .