Softly he cradles his pillow
thoughts drifting lazily from
here to there, but mostly she’s
on his mind.

And somewhere, perhaps not far,
or maybe an ocean away, she
sits, a book and a drink
in her hands, her mind wandering
from the words on the page
to the look on his face
when he thinks no one is
looking. And she smiles
to herself

And quietly as the old jazz
album plays on the ‘45 that
only he remembers how to use
(oh the days fly by) he slides
from his sheets and steps to
the window, thoughts of her
leading him there he looks
out onto the aging night and
the moon hanging low on the
horizon.

Then somewhere she sets
down her book and wine and
walks slowly, lingeringly to
her door, and steps onto the
porch, and into the porch swing to
pretend he’s holding her. And
her longing eyes travel slowly
to the blurry line the mountains
draw against the night, and she
gazes there at the moon.

And for a moment
        A brief fleeting moment
                They touch each other
                        Souls brushing softly
                                Like a too quick kiss
                                        Goodbye........

And then it’s gone, they’re alone
again, with only picture and memories
to keep the warm, and pillows
and sheets to hug against their bodies
as they dream of each other.

                        AcB 6.21.98