Sketches of a Distant Horizon

I’m sitting here wrapped in silence
thinking of you,
dreaming splinters of distant places
holding your hand.

I dig deep for my last money to buy
you a single flower,
you smile shy and accept the daisy
with the grace of a queen.

You run ahead with your hair
flowing honey rivers,
just slow enough to be caught
and have a kiss stolen.

We walk for a time in fields
of spun gold and silver threads,
until the sun fades you away
leaving me with only a dream.

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Poetry and writings