Hovering

Sometimes I imagine you here,

hovering like wreathed mist,

or a cold breath against the sky,

and I imagine you are happy:

for me, for you, for us

and the people we have become

without one another,

the lovers we have made

for others who will always love us

far better than we ever loved each other.


Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Available internationally

11 thoughts on “Hovering

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