It would be too obvious
for this poet to say he misses you
(although he misses you more
than any words can say).
Standing in the cold,
I glance up and see a beautiful, low-hanging moon.
She has a huge chunk missing from her side.
My bus arrives and as I silently board,
I look up at her one last time.
I give her a wink & a cheeky, knowing smile.
And with a tear in my eye,
I whisper under my breath:
"I know how you feel."
(c) Brent Harpur, 10/2/2015.
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