The House of Flora

  Today, I lost myself in Pegram. I wove under the canopies of sharp, rigid, intertwining tree branches. Beneath them, the remains of their foliage wilted and molded slowly into the cool earth. I peered into the gray, and small pieces of sleet began to fall and melt upon my windshield. I observed the jagged landscape. There was beauty in the barrenness. January is always melancholy without you. I find myself aching for your hands, your breath, your pea coat, and to be young with you again.

  I miss our February love. I miss wrapping ourselves in scarlet, and rose, and plumeria. I miss the poetry of lace and lipstick valentines, and the way you'd place your beautiful, dry palms on my lower back to guide me gently as we walked.  

  I may never leave Tennessee. I may stay forever just to keep feeling you like this when the seasons change.

  Today I loved you
  From
  180 miles
  Away.