I Miss You Most Mornings

I take my coffee and cigarette alone, watching the snow, breathing the cold. It's beautiful and still and white, and it is early and I have lots of time.

These are the things I wanted to tell you.

The smell of roasting pumpkin seeds

Girls in bright dresses, splashing in puddles

A room where you can make a huge mess

Jackets with red lining

A host of sparrows taking flight

birds against a winter sky

white sugar on a wet strawberry

maps

the hollow between shoulder blades

January morning light caught on the curve of a white porclein teacup

rings turned inward on wrinkled fingers

Little kids in grown-up shoes

Remembering why you fell in love

Men in white dress shirts with freshly starched collars

Minty fresh smiles

Cuddling a puppy under a fuzzy electric blanket when the wind is vicious outside and the cold seems to come from everywhere

Dressing for a first date

Lemongrass soup

Boys with frowny smiles who mutter under their breath that they miss you

The women in church with fabulous hats

Red curry in a yellow dish

Knowing that January is finally over.