In the momentary spaces
between the real time
I live a life as real to me
as any you could find

In the quiet between heart beats
where fear is standing still
I pretend to be the way I want
with youth, and strength, and will

In the silence of my foot steps
there dwells a voice of mine
that fights an endless battle
against what I might find

And in the endless winter
when you know the sun won't come
he appears for one brief moment
then hugs you, then is gone

And you wonder if he loves you
and you wonder if he knows
that you miss the little moments
when you two were alone.

And he wonders if you love him
and he wonders if you know
that he misses the little moments
when you two were alone.

James H. Webb