Morning Meeting with the Ghosts of Poets: Walt

Morning meeting with the ghosts of poets:

In the milky morning light joined by Walt.
He said, "I place my hand upon you that you may be my poem".
"Thank you" , I said then I wove a wool dreadlock in his hair.
We drank strong coffee and told each other everything.
He tapped my knee each time for emphasis.
I said, "I love the way your eyes smile even when you're not".
He said, "I love the way your face looks worried even when you're not".
We laughed.
We ate cheesecake and called it a meal.