Monday, February 25, 2013

On Our Way


here, on our way
to nowhere in particular
we speak of what could be,
of heads pressed close
in laughter and breath
prayers laid bare
and the pause of space
between us as we reach
for one another
missing, fingers laced

we let the air bear
the full of unspoken words
weight of yearn
leak into seats behind
the driver’s chair
there are no middle
in front seats of cars
anymore
you hold the wheel
direct our hearts
manage the
blanks between us

we are old now,
missing is a part of life
like missing middle front seats
or six-year-old grins punctuated
with space where teeth
once stood, we have
missing things too
that may, or may not,
return

© Valerie Bridgeman
February 25, 2013

(The poem that was embedded in “I Have Come to Love You” and “I Have Come to Love You II”)


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