And when you leave
you’ll have been another mistake
that I made through inaction
through these years
blowing in the breeze
as a dried dead husk
What I will miss the most
as with so many others
is the idea of you
the pillow intimacy
and soft words unsaid
only ever imagined

I need the heat of summer
I need to feel her breeze in my beard
that wisp that taps my shoulder
haunting me through my waking dreams
arousing me to this fever pitch

That gesture you made
as you walked away
like on a hot dry day
being bathed in the sea
an incongruous ebb
amongst the never ceasing flow
Or like the breeze
with the scent of summer flowers
against the torrential showers
whisking about with ease
this last bastion of hope
from the unthreading rope

I need the summer comfort
I need to feel her caress; her breeze
that hand on the back like a salve
unknowingly pushing me onward
despite all this resistance

And when this grows
ever too cold to bear
after summer has left her snare behind
to turn this sanguineous
stream frozen still
with only hapless hope
Will she return
to this land once more
bringing with her
the time when again
hills are verdantly beaming
bright against the sky