The Lingering Storm

All night home

and the sorrow sat in my chest.

It didn’t force my feet to run;

I found in sadness some rest,

And you were there.

You were sad,

and you never should be.

There was some distance

Woven into our sudden proximity,

But it didn’t make us.

All these miles

are wasted hours of waiting,

to be other than I am,

to overcome the berating

that gave me flight.

The storm in me

keeps me off the coast,

and it isn’t the winds of memory

that keep me engrossed,

or pull me back

But the shoreline view-

All the smiles, the embraces,

the new wrinkles forming

around familiar old faces

I am missing every day.