It’s been storied

but never prosaic since we last spoke.
These here fingers are in better shape.
There's thick and indecipherable clouds all over.
We look into each other and wonder what exactly is transpiring.
We haven't seen the desert in what feels like ages.

We think about what has been happening there since we've been gone.

We wonder if it is still there.
There are events that hang in the distance that casually draw our attention.

There are big questions still left unanswered.

We're looking at the ground, waiting for it to open up and start singing.