Silent Nightmares Poem by Stan Rodriguez

What a touch…
its softer than the new spring air
flowing past the sands of time
catching the morning breeze.

The tender feel of gossamer
releasing all regrets
encouraging-fulfilling dreams
that from my sleepy bed—arise.

Searching at moments—that I dare
Speak your name
in that empty room
that we no longer share.

So, again I try to close my eyes
and picture you once more
and what a touch
softer the lightest air
I cry regrets—just find despair.