Time and a Half

I miss you tonight,
away from my side
as I write,
as the sun sets,
as the dog posts watch
on your empty parking slot.

I long to hear the click of keys
beneath your fingers --
slow, fast, slow,

I miss the sigh in your pause,
as you search for the perfect word
in a poem,

I ache for your arms,
encircling me from behind,
your kiss from above
before you leave the room,
even for a minute.

Come to me.

Drive home soon,
and safely,
by the light of a waning moon,
windows rolled down,
hair whipping in the wind.

Scott Speck
07/11/2001