I feel the cold crispness of winter
inside my nose.
Up above, the low hung clouds
reflect the pinkish, orange light
from a hundred street lamps,
marking the boundary way
of the street.
Cars speed by, swirling wind,
about me.
The warmth of my breath
puffs billowy, rhythmically,
as I exhale.
The pounding of my feet,
and occasional dog barking
at my passing, are the only
sounds I hear.
I try not think of the
distant point I'm running to
for if I look and see, it might distract me
from the concentration, that I need,
to attain by goal,
to finish.

I stand by the water
Watching.
I hear the lapping waves
Splashing.
The smell of the Sea,
Enticing.
What you do to me,
Exciting.
I gaze into your eyes,
Bewildered.
The reflection, I see,
Adoration.
My arms encircle you,
Comfort.
It's almost time to go,
Anxious.
I've lost you my love,
Sadness.
I'll pray for your soul,
Weeping.

I remember you, from many years before.
You were so beautiful and I did adore,
That look that you had,
The sounds that you made,
As we rode all the byways and more.
The sleek running chassis, I saw before,
With a smooth shifting, four on the floor.
Your engine, a V-8, a 283,
That always had enough power for me.
Dual pipes, with "Smitty's", making the sound,
That would send out echo's all over town.
Driving down the street, every night, alas
The pipes echo's would rattle the glass
Of the storefronts, there were quite a few,
As we circled again, down the Avenue.

I must write of what I feel,
Else this life may get more surreal.
I have noted that late at night,
A wandering about, without delight,
Searching for answers of a question or so,
When I realize there is more to know.
Thought processes, that once were keen,
Are missing the connection, in between.
She knows that something is wrong,
But can't reason of where it will belong.
It frightens me, in a caring way.
I pray that the morrow, is a better day,
For her.