why is it I think of you at inopportune times
not just when the chips are down
but on sunny days when I see your face in the clouds
the song on the radio is too obvious
I can turn that off
but there is no turning away from my cup of tea
and the color of your eyes therein
nor can I pretend not to see
that couple at the grocery picking out fruit
so I walk quickly outside
greeted by a warm gush of air like yours in the morning
karaoke at the party would have been your gig
reading in the library was ours
so there is truly nowhere
where you and I did not visit
a rainy day alone is the closest to peace I have
since solitude was foreign with you
and grey was not in your oeuvre
The Word Rummager 
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