When?
When you’re gone
I find myself in the uncomfortable company
of my own self far too much.
I miss your symbiotic intelligence,
your unerring ability to catch
what I’m pitching,
scratch when I’m itching,
tolerate, placate
when I’m bitching.
It’s probably good for me to experience
introspection a little
every now and then. When
will you be home?
#227
Linda Studley 