Caravan

I keep your warmth tangled in my tresses

Like the wispy clouds entangle the moon

Trapping its silvery halo in dewy softness,

Like a seed within some fleshy ripe fruit

I carry your gaze in my wide open eyes

In them it quietly floats instead of sleep

Like mist over two far-off mountain tops

Like long dead stars on a placid lake

I keep your smell filled in my breath

Laden with old woods, untamed seas

Moss covered rocks on soaked earth

Like a mouthful of winter breeze

I keep your touch locked in my fist

In my palms that I stare night & day

Guessing which line may lead to you

Like a traveler trailing his caravan

That he knows well too, has long gone…