Sometimes

Sometimes a song plays in my car and I turn

smile sadly at the empty seat, and learn

the million ways in which I miss

that unconquerable joy, or even just one kiss.

And sometimes on a walk when I hear

a thousand frogs in chorus as they cheer

the space beside me is hollower than before

a space vacant of arms I would adore.

But sometimes a breadcrumb drops my way

for minuscule time chases loneliness away

leaving a smile, a glow in its wake

but from this dream too I soon awake.

Yet I do not wallow, wail or weep

and my date with words, every day I keep.