Wind caresses
like a sweet lover’s
fingertips
trailing over the fine hair
of my arms
and along my bare legs
a tendril sensibility.
I feel I’ve earned
this love
after the vast bleakness
of a cold
hard
Every gentle ray of sun
a reaffirmation of my place
in it
in life
in love.
My hair brushed aside
by a caring unseen hand,
touching
along my cheek
a reunion of sorts.
Just as the life span
of a housefly
I bask in its temporal nature.
Drinkers with Writing Problems 