is like a violin?
in the loneliness
of the autumn silence,
When icy rain
ticks against the window pane
and leaves rustle
in the darkness.
When the moon
falls behind
the turning night
I miss you,
in the quietness
of my parents' creaking house;
I see your face
in the potted geraniums;
my arms ache for you
as only arms remember...
You fit right beneath my shoulder
like my old guitar.