Cold

The music touches my ears softly
I hear a whisper
Turning, no one is there

Driving, alone on the road
lights flash in my mirror
And are gone

I walk down a crowded city street
That face I know
But it disappears in the rush

And I lay awake in bed
The sheet cold against my body
My heart aching to keep me warm

But now,
no one is there.

No whispers
No lights
No faces

Oh, how cold it is now.

© 1992, Robinson Publications, all rights reserved