If I ever walked on fields they smelled like you. <br />A further dream to lie on grass and eat <br />and wonder if you sniffed a strand of hair aired <br />out in the summer sun like a sheet <br />of cool cotton, spun by a human hand. <br />It's thirty years now since I heard your voice <br />cooled by the distance that fed our children. <br />I will hear you again, my love <br />when I retrieve you in the cold sweat <br />of a disease that stole you from me.<br /><br />Morgan Upridge Thompson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/distance-9/
