Into The Headwind Poem by Lidia Running

I am writing a poem for you
inside my head, and every
time I hide the icons on my
desktop, know that your poem
is sitting there for me to
see but you to never because
I remember what happened the
other times I wrote for you.

Every time I try to write
from my heart I forget where
it has hidden itself, and I
speak from my head and mess
everything up, or I speak
from my diaphragm and cough
my way to what you remember
about me trying to write you.

Your minute angles in planes
of face and elbows speak to
the buttercup yellow under
my chin, and I start to wish
I was a child again for just
one more moment of selfless
complexities and my head that
rests against your rising chest.

Some days when I might like to
rethink all the love poems I
wrote for you on scraps of my
mind and on corners of my
undone homework papers, I try
to remember the grasp of your
arms around my oversensistive
back and whispered I love yous.

I succeed and rush to the stars.