In the world
There are periods
Commas semi-colons colons
Also question marks
And exclamation points
All word rudders
Steering the eye
From wandering off
Or meaning beacons
Drawing thoughts close
Home to shore
Me I rarely
Use them preferring
You to follow
Only my voice
As I lead
Through the forests
Of my imagination
Leaping from craggy
Cliffs to surf
Hopelessly breathlessly wanton
With you there
Exhausted and laughing
At poems door
Early morning sun
Poked through trees
Splashing the street
With yellowed white
Every green imaginable
Captured before you
Like wildly grinning
Children caught off-guard
Zoe on leash
Prowled like thieves
Foraging for breakfast
Your shadow there
Danced like ghosts
Thinking of me
This morning’s walk
When I write
These to you
You have said
It’s like whispers
In the dark
Or notes slipped
Quietly to you
During the day
Reminding you that
I am thinking
Only of you
And simply that
No one else
Will ever know
The secrets contained
Between these lines
Burdened like boughs
Laden by late
April snow bending
But not snapping
Truth lies heavily
Often shed quietly
During those darkest
Moments of outrage
Difficult to lift
Impossible to sweep
It remains there
Until the sun
Once again breaks
Warming me knowing
What you said
You said lovingly
Not from spite
Nor from injury
Simply because you
You of all
Trusted I’d listen
Away you are
With the few
You hold dearest
Lounging languidly now
Snacking on fruits
And sweet vegetables
A lake lays
Before you there
Forests and valleys
Enjoy your time
With those three
Miracles of yours
I know they
Make you happier
Than any other
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 