Where you are now, the only lights are stars <br />and oil lamps flaring on vine-covered porches. <br />Where you are now, it must be midnight. <br />No one has bothered to name all the roads <br />that overlook the sea. The freshened air <br />smells of myrtle and white jasmine. A church <br />stands on the headland, and I hope it might <br />keep one thought of me alive in your head. <br /> <br />Autumn is here: warm days becoming cold. <br />The trees dropp more leaves, love, each time it rains. <br />I eat my meals with the TV turned on, <br />but softly so the neighbors won't complain. <br />The kilim is stained by the food I spilled <br />the first day-and the second-you were gone<br /><br />G.E. Patterson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-responsibility-of-love/
