her sweater

i've been zipped in her sweater, wearing
navy blue and racing stripes since wednesday, an acknowledged
reminder of her.
she'll be back on sunday, i know,
filled neck-high with hockey stories,
the same old worry frown on her forehead.

it's been a wooly week with her not here,
over-heating as indian summer
crept up the heels of her departure.
soothing goosebumps in the mornings,
listening intently to some coffee-shop
soccer-moms, i realize i miss her.

patterns, patterns- i went off to that
little slice of '69- to drum an antiquated
story down on euclid, releasing
my sadness. playful on a d'jembe, itchy shoulders
swinging, i wished she was there,
with me, just being closer.

Song of the day: bluebird- buffalo springfield