-evening, when i’m cold and lonely-

what gives you the right
to steal away my peaceful solitude
along with the words on my page
you with your frigid silence,
your chill way of hiding at the farthest corners
of my vision

I miss the way you used to wander in
slowly, almost unsure
(not rushing to a midnight-secret rendezvous)
with your sweet breath against my skin, fingers ruffling my curls
and music, always music;
soothing away the tensions of the day

these days
you rush in
like a degenerative disease
stealing away light and life in the middle of a breath
(we wrap our sweaters tighter,
wish for steaming mugs to hold between our hands,
finally give up and go inside)
you whisper dark promises of long nights

I miss the way you used to come to me on tiptoe.

——————

This is how I feel about the depressing midwinter season, when the daylight leaves us too early and waits too long to reappear. I wrote it about this time last year when I wanted to be sitting out on our little Peace Porch reading a book and listening to the creek and the frogs and crickets as the evening turns slowly, slowly into night. I’d like that right now.

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About ruthie.voth

Wife of one, mother of four, friend of many. Lover of details, color, good conversations, finding balance, and being honest. Passionate lover of a well-crafted sentence - even more so if it's witty. Weird blend of cynical optimist. I'm the worst kind of woman. I'm high maintenance, but I think I'm low maintenance. Somehow, people still love me. Must be grace.
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