A Decade Later

The Grass...

Is always greener
from where you sit
and watch its dance on the field

Once you were lonely,
saddened sometimes
by staring out of windows
into partly clouded stars
And you wished
you had hands to hold
and a mouth to kiss

Now, you sit
holding hands,
kissing a mouth
wishing you had
a cigarette and
an excuse to
sit by the window
alone
and search for
clouds
that are just a
season away