The Trellis in Letters of Renaissance

Where are you?
Are you standing beneath and looking at the same moon that I am and that I see right now? Or are you whisking across a river on the farther end of this; beneath our sun, looking at the multitude of glimmering leaves amassed like cumulus upon the trees that pass you by, wondering upon similar things?
Or is your place in time much more distant? Are we here upon the same trellis or do you reside somewhere across the wide breadth of the galaxies?
Somehow it only feels a touch more lonely than if you were a few kilometers from me and we were not together.
Then again, that may be the worse of the two tragedies.