Early Morning

A poem I wrote for my wife on Dec. 16, 2009:

There is a cold--dead silence in the early morning.
Winter treads its sky with barely visible sky.
They will be gray.

Silently, I roll our of bed, eyes closed involuntarily
It's early and I want to sleep
You make a noise you your sleep

I am a blur. A brief memory as I dress in near darkness
Trying to keep my cold shutter in.
The cold takes me

Still sleeping, with no cares--you move.
Turning to your side to face me, your breath heavy
"Goodbye," I whisper and kiss

The air outside is cold, matching the gray light
I think of my wife almost every morning
Wishing I was there with her.

She doesn't know. And she may never
Still I wait for the few days a week
Hoping to stay until dawn.

I love her so so much.