For years and years I guess I was lonely, But refused to call it so, Now out on the front stoop in September with Kim, Drinking a beer in the sun, When she asks “Nick are you lonely?” I don’t even flinch and say “yeah”, I could say a thousand other things but why, To answer a plain question with a plain reply, Feels new to me and good. To go to the beach and it’s nearly deserted, What for all the smoke, It’s happened again and it keeps happening, I laugh the air thick with moths, The summer was a weird one, I swing open the door “welcome fall”. And with another toss of a pebble, Combing the beach for shells, And looking at the water at sunset, Next to things that don’t matter and things to forget, I let them whirl, a little cyclone, Living in a world of love.