and days like this
i miss you more
than any other.
in this cold
i could see your           breath
and our bodies
wouldbecloser.
for the warmth,
of course.
your glove fingers
wouldn't fit into
my mitten hands
so you would
put yours
in
my
pocket.
on days like this
i miss you more
than any other.
this time,
on
any other day
we would be
sipping       hot     hot
coffee
and making jokes
about our past.
we would
probably
make a fire
if we had remembered
to get wood.
if not,
we would gather
all the blankets
sleeping bags
and quilts
we owned
and would make
the greatest
coziest
blanket fort
on record.
days like that
are ones I miss.
and it's hard
that today is
not that day.