It's 12:27 a.m.
And my postman's fast asleep
As I should be,
But I lie awake while you're also
Counting sheep

This distance between us
Cements my eyes to a map
Questioning the miles
Upon miles
Worth a hitchhike
And knapsack

For now, I'll write you poetry
Stamp and seal it
With a kiss
Until my mail carrier arrives
To deliver these words
Of how much you're missed

© JL Smith