earthbound

fog, and a cool breeze
surround the oceanside park
in a grey embrace,
as the gulls
cackle the news to each other,
and the trees all
drip, drip, drip
the past night's rain,
ticking off the minutes
since I held You in my arms
and felt Your fullness
pressed against me so tight,
that it felt like You were trying
to get to the other side of me
by passing through me;

I know Your loveliness now,
not just from the warm sound
of Your voice in my ear,
nor the image of You on the screen,
but from the touch of my own hands;

and though the dreariness
of this morning tries to pull me down,
I am buoyed, here next to the harbor,
by the memory of those hours
of delight, and I concentrate,
to stay earthbound,
and not simply take flight.



August 30, 2009, for the Wifey.

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