The wind whispers only at three am-collaboration with Larry

The older I get,
the more sleep eludes me.
I often find myself
curled up in my chair,
gazing out on our moonlit garden,
while the wind whispers its secrets...
I think of you also-
It's been nigh forty years
since I last saw your face.
Another summer, another lifetime ago.
Always wondering,
do you ever think of me?
-
It's too early in the morning again;
lately my soul has drawn me back
to lusty college days loving that girl
on dusty roads in a topless Firebird:
Rustic orchards, green alfalfa fields
trees shivering in red and yellow
like overgrown burning bushes,
with sweet apricot brandy on ice
sipped on a hidden gazebo with her.
-
No-one could hold
a candle to you...
You were like a Sun-God;
shimmering in the heat.
the last vestige of summer.
Late nights spent on the phone
when we were apart.
Cryptic notes scribbled
on my calendar,
our own language of love...
-
Wonder what would happen
if she were to wander alone
into her library and walk over
to our carrel - would she smile
to find me sitting there - waiting?
But our paths have diverged
each gone to careers, though
my own has become a single file
trudging through the public jungle.
But, it'd not be fair to try to tear her
from the safety and comfort
that she has for her sanctuary.
Still...the dream whispers to me,
borne nightly on the wind at 3 AM.