Jo Naylor CC
wait let me just look at you
outside the bedroom window white expanse of cold
a tree then more fields of snow
further you eventually reach a road
that first winter together I didn’t know what cold was
my whole body was full of love that warmed me
from any outside winter trying to get in
in the corner is an old lamp giving perfect light
sometime later in the middle of night
one of us will get up to turn it off
we are getting slow tired now
before we close our eyes let me look at you a little while longer
you look so beautiful as you did yesterday and will tomorrow
If I knew that was going to be the last time, in protest I would’ve faked a protest by laying down
in the middle of the street to stage my demands of there’s no way this can’t be the last time I’ll
ever be here with you, because if that’s the case that’s really damn sad.
I would’ve sat there all night under the streetlights and painted a shadow memory of us to stay
there forever, to never fade away, long after all the years and rain could wash it away.
If I knew that time was going to be the last time, I would’ve thought about it possibly being the
And here I am and there you are with all this physical distance stretched between two points
where I sit now and where you are.
And time is ticking. We are getting older. Our kids, just look at our kids. They have kids now.
And the old memories are past the starting to fade phase.
On an early morning drive with the morning fog stretched over that farm field just west of where
all of this first started.
Jack C. Buck lives in Boise, Idaho. He is the author of Deer Michigan, Gathering View, will you let it send you out.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.