It is cold here without you
To keep me warm, and my hands
Look old and worn, ravaged by
The damp winds of September.

Somehow, all seems peaceful
With you, even when I can hear
More than when I am alone;
The world outside your window
Is tame compared to the
Pained, despairing animal
Outside mine.

I do not want to sleep
If I will not find you beside me
When I wake, but I must
Rest myself in readiness for
The rigours of a day without
Your soothing voice and
Joyful smile.

My eyes are closing, even though
Your breathing is not
Lulling me to sleep; instead I have
Occasional gusts playing with
The trees outside to keep me
From finding rest tonight.

My head is heavy with the memory
Of your hand in mine, and of
The things I left in your room,
So I shall give in to gravity,
And wish you a distant goodnight.

09/21/2004

Posted on 09/27/2004
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince