I wrote this the night before heading home from a recent trip.
Whistling Vivaldi,
a phrase I heard
while waiting for
your footsteps
to come to
the door.
It's almost time to say goodbye
again.
Lying in bed,
shoulder to shoulder,
I listen to you
breathe.
I'll miss your nighttime warmth,
the tug to reclaim the blanket,
the knowing that someone
I love
is so close.
It's almost time
to say goodbye
again.
Trains and planes will
put miles between
our voices on the phone,
our lives.
Yet, somehow our hearts
always remain close
enough
that I swear
I can
feel yours
beating
wherever
we both
are.
