There are times when I see myself
through eyes past.
My pale face so in love
aching for the caress of a flaxen
haired boy racing through rolling fields.
Suddenly serious your adventurous eyes
sent shivers through me.
I longed for your touch anytime and
kissed you opened mouth without
I adored your mock anger when
you chased and on catching me
the awkward way you looked down
at your hands.
Soon Autumn threw its shadow on
sprouting wheat, smooth and wet.
Now, I listen to the soft whisper
of your breathing through a half
closed door and know there are
different kinds of love, soft and sweet,
wild, ruthless, and unafraid.