In the cold gray dawn I call out your name,
a garish arisal from dreams of the night.
Though with thoughts of you, it's not the same.
I quickly rise, with such dreadful angst, fright.
In the missing of you, what I must do,
rising in the darkness of each morning.
Moving through these long days, but without you,
such nightmares now come, I have no warning.
I call out to you each night, call out your name,
to be with you my truest love, all too soon.
Though we spoke daily, it's still not the same.
To you I would go, morning, night, or noon.
In quiet of night, my voice still calls out
for just memory now, I am not without.

01/22/1978

Posted on 12/27/2012
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