missing

soft sad days
like a glow outside rain-
spattered glass
among the trees, mystery
never feel this way again
as i get older
my finger on the pulse of the world
getting colder

she listens to the drums of the rain
her world is open
strange, still filled with
holidays and long weekends
friends, bonfires, lazy dreams
along the seams of the grass and the flowers,
she sees
with her strange visionary power.