The first night at home alone in my bed,
I thought about texting you.
How I hope that your winter isn’t too cold,
cause last year, that’s what I’d do.
At first, I thought that I missed you a lot,
till I knew what kept me at bay;
To miss and need just do not align,
and each feels different ways.
And, my dear, that I haven’t missed you much either.
Since this time last year, I’ve read new poetry,
traveled to places you could only imagine,
and found new people to tell about it.
All that said, I’m grateful for all that you’ve been for me,
and I still hope your winter isn’t too cold.