Journey Home

With every step I conjure you;
the beat of your name in my feet - such
power in the drum of a word.

I am thinking about the cold, the harsh
sting at my nostrils as I inhale,
blue gloves and a mismatched hat. No,

you are not often "far from my thoughts but in this
moment I am aware only
of myself, the crack in my lip.

So, wrapped in self, I hear it,
the vastness: the cars, the crisp sky,
summer on the other side of the world,

and my own footfalls sounding
your name, your name.