(For my friend, D.)

I can almost touch your pale skin,

our faces separated by a screen

that blurs, then clears,

and blurs again,

affording me only the sound  of your voice

and silhouettes –

a nose,




that I try to see from memory.

It is cold.

You are wearing black gloves

and rubbing your hands together

to keep warm.

I wonder if you will be here in the summer.

Published in: on January 14, 2011 at 6:23 pm  Leave a Comment  

The URI to TrackBack this entry is: https://brushthedirtoff.wordpress.com/2011/01/14/distance/trackback/

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: