Reality, yours or mine

I follow the path to your door
on the map with my finger,

crossing land as if it were boulder free
crossing seas as if they were nothing more
than shallow puddles easily jumped.

Reality acknowledges the distance
but my mind sees each house,
checks each street number, each garden
and searches for your vehicle,
your footprint on the grass.

It is as if I stumbled headlong
into some new world that resembles
my own, reality seeming similar

and yet different because in yours
I am new, not caked with age
nor remembering less
than perfect sunrises.