Nourishment

 A poem:

I recall the days, all of them, not just the early ones. 

What I remember is that you looked into my eyes like they were a banquet, and you were starving. 

One day you told me that you had to stop, you were spoiling your dinner. 

Now, a literal lifetime later, we're speaking again. You say out loud that you don't need me to get you anything, so why do I hear what I hear in your voice? 

You sound hungry. 

Oddly Pathetic, Old-Timey Version

 Lately, I’ve been living the second verse of “You Are My Sunshine”.

The other night dear as I lay sleeping, 

I dreamed I held you in my arms

When I awoke dear, I was mistaken,

So I bowed my head and I cried.

OK, I’m not crying, but I do feel pretty pathetic for having dreams about the past. Now’s an extra bad time for it. 

Maybe I should just write about Ukraine, like everyone else.