Gable

when i close my eyes,
i can still smell
the sunflowers in your hair
and my heart aches
to be held by you again.

these western winds blow cold
and though tears grace my eyes,
i linger by the oaks;
growing as gnarled as they
in my pain.

you will fly to higher roosts
and leave me far behind
but my old roots still reach for you
yearning for your touch
just one last time.

~lt