Keith

A PERSON POOR

An autumn heat
Eases the worn street.
People talk
And eyes meet
Over menus meant for lovers.
I sit
Glass in hand
Staring sunwards
Aching for your breath
To bring life into my land.
This world is fine -
It\'s everything
But a person poor.
It\'s the perfect jigsaw
But a piece I need
Is missing.
What makes me tick?
What keeps me sane?
The light for sure.
This life, this Spain.
I\'ll keep it all.
For I know - I believe
Your heart is here too
The link in the chain
Holding me down
For you.