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I wish I had a nickel for every time I think of you
watching TV in your creaky chair, chin parked on your chest, '... not sleeping, just resting my eyes for a minute...'
or with your brows furrowed, chasing an errant whisker through the lather on the stranger in the mirror,
or your gnarled hands working leather and the amazing precision of your intricate designs, considering the size of those hands,
or you secretly watching me from across the room, ... and me secretly catching you secretly watching me,
or your gentle touch when you pass my chair, just because you're glad I'm here.
Love is measured in so many little minutes. It's important we not miss them, who knows, life might be metered in hours.
It isn't really about the nickels, ... but it would be fun to see the almighty pile of coins.
C.J. Heck
Read poems about / on: mirror, fun, time, work, sleep
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