Polar Fleece

A painting on the wall,

a beautiful mountain range.

The sun has set,

clouds still burn orange and red.

Alone, a mist fills the valleys.

Life slows.

Transition, day to night,

change.

Peace,

the lonely comfort of solitude.

Lying alone,

warm,

wrapped in polar fleece.

Free,

my mind wanders,

thinking, missing.

Like those mountain peaks,

the sun is gone.

Darkness comes.

I miss the feel of your skin.

I miss snuggling in.

I miss your perfume, the scent of your hair.

I miss your touch,

I miss your laughter, your silliness.

Wondering if you miss my touch.

I miss going out and just hanging out.

Walks to the res, Moose biting my butt.

I miss coffee and donuts.

Little notes about nothing

or how your day has been.

I miss your smile, the sound of your voice.

Rhythms change, the tide goes out.

Bottles recycled,

plastic is shredded, a fiber is spun.

Polar fleece, wrapped in change,

wondering, thinking, missing.


David Gray