The low fall light created a crisp edge to the trees, their reflection in the still, cool water after that hot spell. I was waiting for this, eager for the relief of beauty, clear after the storm. I headed off down the trail knowing that you were not there, but I still looked for you, in trees, in a thought I had once when I saw you there that first time, in the snow.

It is obvious now, always has been, though so easy to overlook the tattered edges of love the way you wear it–mine. I never should have said it, I know, said the three magic words, but there it is, and it is always, there, like a thought written on a white board with the wrong marker. I am that way, reluctant always to let a good thing slip away, even when it has really already gone. 

I never see those things, never do; not a desire for staticity, no, never. More visceral, the urgent want when I catch your scent, the way you toss your head back, like a distant memory, a star, light years away.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s