I miss your writing
And at the latest hours of the night
I toss and I turn
Pleading for more words
Less anguish
O! this horrid waiting to know
What it is that weighs upon
Your beautiful soul
And I lay awake as the sun
Sits upon the horizon
Creeping up, killing the night sky
I think of not just your poems
But of you
Wondering how my friend
Could possibly be out in this
Altogether too large of a world
But when I say that I am missing
Your poetry
What I'm really saying is
I miss you