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At a Retreat
September 18
Dear Mario,
I sit on my bed
in my 7×7×7 foot
cubicle,
writing poetry,
and making notes for tomorrow's class.
I am wearing my pink pajamas.
Earlier I walked alone
under the maple
trees,
listening to the slow song
of the crickets.
There were no stars.
Later, I will snuggle deep
under the comforter
while
the cool breeze blows
through the open window.
Perhaps it will rain.
While it rains, I will dream
of lying beside you,
your
warm arm
resting on my chest.
We are still together, even
here.
Love,
Sondra
