Distance

I gaze at you

Taking in your

Salty grey hair,

Stained

With soft silver,

Like frozen rain.

Your eyes,

Chips of Arctic blue,

Burn

From thousands of miles away.

My eyes

Watch you

From across the table,

Tired hands

Stirring the Tetley tea.

Your skin glows

From the touch

Of foreign suns,

And warm burnished moons,

And your words weave a tale

Of dreams far flung

From here,

From the kitchen table.

Return to me,

I pray.

But only my heart

Acknowledges

That you are leagues away.