Rose sun tendrils

Re-posting a poem I wrote in December 2018:

Sunset came so quickly;

I wasn’t prepared

for the rose sun tendrils

curling around the clouds

like your hair on my finger.

The milky light of day gave way

to the glitter-stained ink that is night,

and I thought of you.

I thought of your skin under my fingertips,

the soft acquiescence to my touch

and your quiet intake of air

as my arms encircled you while you slept.

I remembered holding our gloved hands

in the winter-stripped woods,

our breath clouds holding our future,

tantalizingly out of touch

for the moment.

I felt the memory of your arms

wrapped around me in the kitchen,

turning me to kiss you,

laughter on your lips and in my ears.

I saw the end of one day,

and foretold the beginning of another.

Another day with you,

another year together.