My Own Time Poem by bob barci

It's with anticipation
that I rush to your home,
even though you won't be there.
I anticipate the solitude,
the four walls, bird sounds,
a couple days on my own, reminders of you.
Halfway to your hometown
I already feel the emptiness,
the loneliness, just the mood I need to sit and write.
I sort of look forward to
the lonely shades of blue and grey.
I'll do what I can
to turn them orange and yellow.
It's up to me to brighten my days.
What would I like to do with my time?
I'll just play it by ear.
I dread sleeping alone tonight.
You should be here.
This is my lonely time.
People all around,
but where are you?
My own time
needs you in it.