For a Friend I Never Found

This picture develops in absolute silence.
On the wall above my desk someone I missed
fades in, waits below the surface, and
goes with me by float steps back through miles,
through clouds. That picture takes my face,
together we drift.

Remember the expression on those little dogs,
wide-eared, alert (whether to run? attack?
be friends?)—no dignity to clutter all in between?
Some day for me will be that way. Some day
the sky will pay for everything. Inside
what hides inside the bone a voice will say,
“It’s time,”