You, me, inside
the fire light.
Holiday, come.
On days like this,
I miss the left
side of your jawline.
I miss the slightly
larger shape,
the almond
of your right eye.
We will rest
in one simple room.
East or west,
north or south,
we will feel time
for what it is --
low lit, silent
and momentous.
Holiday, come.
Your life
is the only present
on my wish list.
C.A. MacConnell
