A Little More

Photo by Sorin Tudorut on Unsplash

Something grows
a little more gleeful
a little more joyful
when you draw near.

Something fades
a little bit duller
a little bit darker
when you drift away.

And I become
a little more wistful
a little more fearful
without you.

Now the gust
of your absence
grips me within
rigid ice.

And a piece of me
cries out
looking for
a piece of you.

A fluid mirror of us
in ancient found things
and verdant soft spaces
and formal town squares.

And something grows
vaster
wilder
warmer
when you see me — 
just a little more.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.