Separation

The longing brushes against the heart
a sullen movement against the surface of the ringing bell
by which I was set in motion

I long to find you in the sun when it is still almost warm
dance among the broken concrete and the gravel
watch the sea slowly turn white
and then escape into the warmth of old paper
kindlings and the simplicity
of long quiet nights full of listening

what I feel can not be measured by distance
only by time, the small steps between the crackling sounds
as the world falls silently asleep
and covers herself in frost