For Jordan

I don't quite know
where to begin this,
much as I'm unsure
of where these freezing waves
have begun to rise from.
But the sun is done setting,
and there are no clouds left
to turn purple and red.
The air is turning cold,
and I'm already ill enough.

If you were here smiling
with your legs tangled in mine
just for the warmth
it would bring to my cold face,
like I've thought of nightly,
I wouldn't even notice
the waves swooping in closer
towards my numbing feet,
subtle like the growing cold,
and black like the emerging darkness.

Alas, I don't quite know
where to end this either,
and to be honest,
I can't even be sure
of where its end might be.
But you're off with another,
as I must now be off,
you with another who's warm,
and I only with another
long and cold walk home.

all works on this page Copyright 2001 by Paul Ryan

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