A Collection of Poems

Untitled Poem 16

The moon shines through the window,

Stirred awake by the reflecting light,

I roll over to find you gone,

Outside the glass window panes, you stand,

You lean against the wooden cider porch rail,

Overlooking the forest below,

Barefooted in black slacks and an open black nightshirt,

I quietly open the window door just to stare,

You peer over your shoulder to catch a glance,

Something bothers you so,

What is it, my love?

You hold out your hand for me to take,

As I do you pull me towards you,

Sometimes I wonder if this place haunts you,

I place my hand on your clean-shaven cheek,

Your skin is cold as ice,

Sweat droplets drip from your face,

Your hair is wet as if you had just taken a shower,

I place my hand on your chest,

Your heart beats faster and faster,

You tell of a dream of great sorrow and pain,

I sit on the bench shivering in the cold,

You sit down next to me to hold me,

Your heart begins to slow down,

I take your hands and glide you back into our room,

I kiss the top of your head and roll back over,

But I still wonder if I'll be up again.