Longing Poem by Je'free Y .

It is in the sad look of my puppy
Who wants to be cuddled when I get home,
And in my weary legs that need the couch.

It is in the cry of a hungry baby
Just before he gets his bottle of milk,
In the eccentricity of a child without attention.

It is in the mailbox, empty, not a postcard;
In the humidity of a summer day desperate for rain,
And in the greedy hands of the unhappy man.

It flows through my veins in your absence,
Throbs in my heart as you enter the room,
Pounds stronger knowing any minute you are gone.

It is in the poet with a thousand stories to tell
Who satisfies his yearnings verse by verse,
In the many lonesome hearts of this broken world.

It is like the open ground waiting for a falling star,
The ears of the uncomforted who hears silence,
And like the restless dreamer's longing to long.