sunrise on a new day

she seemed always to be my treasure,
and regularly I told her so, for good measure,
and she reminded me
that the space between
two loving hearts
cannot be measured,
no matter where they happen to reside:
they are separated only by
skipped beats,
and cold sweats,
and paces marking the floor
from the window to the door;
by drumming fingers,
and by all that lingers,
when they seem far away,
but are as close as tomorrow,
as vivid and touchable
as sunrise on a new day.

February 16, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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