Inspired by the collection ”Rapture”, written by the English Poet Laureate:
You walk, yes, not towards me but away;
Not walk step by step but rather
Steadfast onto this morning’s plane,
Which I missed, lying next to you in our bed
Too sweetly asleep-
But I’m sure I nonetheless felt
The faintness of your caress,
Brushing against my hair or my breast
’Until next time’ they say,
And I do find comfort in words
But only those penned by you or myself.
You stare through the plastic window,
Airborne, and while on the ground I stay,
I bridge our distances with my pen.
Jeronimo Ors 13O’D