untitled love poem

untitled love poem

Under my breath, sometimes,

when I'm by myself

and all the lights are out

and the shades pulled,

I whisper dark words

not for spite

or in anger--- but to fill

some void that is

always opening up

in your wake.

If there is a wind, and the

window is cracked,

it will steal the words

quickly,

pulling them sideways

from my lips

like smoke trailing out and

dissolving over the trees.

As the words clear, I can see you

there again, on Long's Peak,

holding yourself like some trophy.

A smile danced up

between your eyes---

moved along the length of your

left brow and got lost

in your hair---

and me, standing there staring,

wondering if I was just

in the right place at the right time

to catch it.

The wind has shifted now---

and a coolness

blows in and moves

over my skin,

stands each hair at

attention.

I know this darkness is

short-lived --- you will come

back and I'll be

glad

to pull aside your blond hair and

uncover your face,

search the tangles

for the right spot to kiss,

know I've found it when you

look me in the eyes,

but for now, I am savoring the

sounds of these

few words,

and the few flakes that

just fell white outside

to hush the growing grass.