I wish I had
told you
I had so many words
in my head
I would
escape to write them
on napkins or slivers
of papers
like the tide
or the well placed rocks
the moose we saw: my
words left - even
our bad days
made for
good poems
because the sky
opened up and begged
me to write as you climbed
and my heart
stopped in fear
I wanted nothing more than
to sit and organize
my scattered
words - I have notes,
images, feelings
as we turned back
looking for apple pie
still those poems are lost
their sense of being
I am glad you know
for when we meet
in the greatest city in the world
you may understand
my distance is not
detachment
just the opposite
it is love
