Dogs 2008

MONDAYS
(3/24/08)


Mondays
are the
worst

after a weekend
of having you near
holding you dear
touching you
every time
that I reached
for your hand
then suddenly
losing your physicality
due to some
fiasco
of scheduled
employment madness
I feel as if
some essential
basic ingredient
is now missing
from my life

I know
that we are
still linked
by our love
and that a psychic reach
would find the same
telekinetic embrace
in return
but when
my highest priority
walking this earth
is at a distance
I am a rudderless
vessel
wandering
an insipid sea
of me
alone

tonight
when we meet
for the first time
again
my direction
will return
the horizon
will clear
and the stars
of your eyes
will point the way
to my home
in you