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Remember after the divorce

when we used to recline in the summer evening's sun

your tanned skin inhaling every last morsel of the days light

after hours spent working the earth

creating a masterful green paradise

dirt having buried itself in the cracks on your palms and under your fingernails

you finally could enjoy your creation with me over dinner

and so we sat in our purple Adirondack chairs 

and became experts at lounging in wordless peace

slurping our homemade pesto to a symphony of gurgling fountains

and creating together

our new home.

~~~~~

It's a multitude of years later now

and I haven't eaten in the evening sun for ages...

and the dirt is gone from underneath your fingernails

and the cracks in your hands...

and you aren't here any more at all really 

and I miss desperately

our bountiful feasts of silent, unconditional love.

And today...
well today I need you.

Won't you, if only for the flutter of a butterfly's wings,
come back to me now?