Thirty

Whether it’s thirty minutes

Or only thirty seconds

Just to see you

Just to feel the way it caresses my soul when you talk to me

When you look at me and burn me to my soul

Just thinking of you

Spins me dizzily across the plain

You’re always with me all the time

I fear sleep now

But not for nightmares

But for those few short hours

My day dream ends

And is out of my control

I often wake in the middle of the night

My first thought

Perfect memory

Your image dances before me

Comforting me in the wee hours

And if even just for a moment

My daydream resumes

Thirty minutes or thirty seconds

Mere blinks in the last thirty years

Lonely isolation

I feel blessed though

Looking forward to the next thirty

To know they won’t be spent alone…

(Okay, this is hardly a poem;

I’m a bit out of practice it seems

That

Or I just have stopped caring)

Copyright: William Casey Wood

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED