When you’re not here I imagine my fingers on your skin …
Warm and soft and yielding to my touch.

When you’re not here, I close my eyes and feel you
Nestled closely in my arms, sharing our love.

When you’re not here, I smell you hair filled with sunshine
Collected as you tend your garden.

I see it now, the same, yet, empty without you
Waiting …. like me … for your return.

March 2001