She counted 37 cherry blossoms
in the time it took him to order
iced tea and dungeness crab.

They walked down to the beach
and wondered if they might
someday live there, as the birds
sang their song of V’s in the sky.

She told him she was a dreamer
every night a gossamer strand
of web, weaving itself into her
sleep, bringing some new truth.

He told her his dreams were of
joy and mountains and girls from
alaska and houses on the beach,
someday.

They sipped tea and walked on,
smiling at the birds, speaking of
dreams, talking of somedays.

Realizing that somedays
start today.