When we were in Vermont,
Granted there were some complications,
I felt closer to you then ever before,
Sitting by a dieing fire,
My problems,
Dwindling in the night sky,
Your voice velvet on my sad ears,
Glooming doom shrouded for the moment,
So subtle your toes on the side of my foot,
But better than a blatant hug,
The mood too somber for such sacrilege,
"Tell me some stories."
"About what?" choking back tears,
For a second anger flashes,
Memories, childhood strikes vulnerable heart,
Through silent tears so quickly concealed,
Pouring out my story, my creation,
Molding into a youth, then man,
Telling makes me feel old,
Days of a younger me,
But somehow to relate
Relieves the weight on my chest,
The stabbing pain of loss,
Is for a moment is sheathed.
I am losing too much now,
Snailspace,
My childhood romping ground of Medfield,
Don't let me lose you, please.
