490 miles

I'm driving. Cigarette on the left hand and Diet Coke on the right hand.
Love songs playing loud on the radio and my hair all over the place.

My baby anxiously waits 490 miles away for me to come home.
And home is not a house, or a city, but his warm strong embrace.

As I drive my mind wonders off to every inch and corner of my love.
It replays the ways we studied and learned each other's ways.

I crave the little things like watching him lip sync and play his air guitar,
Or rub and kiss his back while he combs his silver hair and shaves.

I realize I only have an hour to go and I can't stop smiling like child.
I wonder if he's grinning and fidgeting and pacing around.

Maybe I won't have to make this trip again too many times.
Maybe soon we wake up to coffee in our home that's also our house .

Reviews

[emily.c.]

Great mix of good feelings. The anticipation and excitement of being in between places, but the end it's maybe a little craving for stability and the comforts of a home in one place? I love this.

[wordman]

sweet love poem,anticipation sometimes is a good thing..