When By My Fears Poem by James McLain

When by my fears, I have.
Like you.
Tears they fall, against my cut
and callused open sunday palm,
and salty looking up.
You know, I feel them burn.
When I see your shaking face
beneath my hands
thoughts as though
as silk unraveled, 'pulls against.
A level desk my face before the light,
nights warm up high
and as a window opens
and with it comes to you,
the burning sun.
While, what I wish to hear,
from you,
can't but to come when passed.
While I shed tears that you may one day,
yearn to be.