Sometimes I imagine
You’re sitting beside me on this bench,
Watching the cars and the rain
And staring at the gravel road,
Thinking of the same thing
it reminds us both of.
asking you questions,
And you asking me questions,
And nodding at your wisdom
And your grace
And wanting, at that moment,
To tell you anything
I’ve practiced so many times before.
I would ask you with gestures
And sighs between raw honesty,
And tell you how I’ve longed
for this moment
for too long. You’d sit and you’d
listen, and tell me that you’re
honoured by my words,
and that I was the best friend
you could ever imagine
And I imagine sighing
and smiling, but
wishing you knew what
© Copyright 2016 Ashleigh Butcher. All rights reserved.
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