sometimes I wake with an ache
not from old age but from love
I treasure your enfolding hug but
dream arms wound in lovers’ embrace
I get up and go outside to smoke
see the captured rain drops sparkle
clinging to the leaves of a tree
and imagine your eyes’ alight
as you cling to me I know
what to do with that ache
but I do it imagining pleasure
moving across your face
like those moon-bright clouds—
but for now the clouds obscure
a chilling rain is falling
over your unsettled house
you move through it alone
together like two ghosts
escaping into beers, a pot pen
I imagine another escape but
you see that as another complication
in a puzzle you struggle to solve
I must accept and be content
for love's sake with the possibile
I can only offer you one thing
you no longef get at home
a man who listens and longs
to understand, one to lean on
About the Poet:
Learn more about Mark Folse at https://wellbottomblues.com/
Nice poem
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