With Me Next Time

Something of a dark green leaves and branches hanging level with my face.
I don’t move to avoid them, but I soak in the visual.
For these moments come so sparingly.
Son, I feel the rain falling this Winter,
and boy am I thirsty.

So, bring on the fog and dew.
A jacket, so warm, can only bring such comfort.
“I miss you,” I told her, as the sky fell outside.
We stay inside for the warmth,
But outside is where
I want to be standing. With you,
I want to
run far for life.
For us, for you.
“You’ll be with me next time I go outside”