When I Miss You
I honestly don’t know where my head is,
drifting along some riverbank,
a reminder of the man across the way,
that sort of damp soil,
yet we were together, alone
in a sort of, romantic way.
Self-conscious in our attraction to each other,
given the nature of the fisherman nearby,
we were never sure if his attention
was upon his animal, the golden running about,
or if he consciously wondered about
the two of us,
or maybe we did, we always do,
like any quiet stroll along the riverbank.
I remember I could rest my chin on your shoulder,
feel you pull yourself back to press lips on my cheek,
your hair cascades around me,
I can sense you,
I recognize the sweet air of your being,
like a quiet hug in the middle of the day,
in a neighborhood, we may.
I do wish to suggest, this is the state of my way,
when alone in my quiet mind, I am thinking …
wishing, wanting, always wondering, when time
will allow my rest upon
sweet naked shoulders.