Keeping Vigil

by revbillcook

In November I watch the sycamores

along the river turn amber to brown.

In the stiff breeze leaves break away

fall into the river, drift in its eddies.

.

In April minnows return to feed

in river shallows. Turtles appear

sunning in long lines on fallen logs.

Couples return  to walk the river bank.

.

I sit by this window

with skeins of yarn, running soft thread

through my fingers, waiting, watching,

wondering if you still dream of home

as often as I dream of your return.

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