THE DISTANCE

“Hello, my dear” I can’t say to your face.

Must I always scrutinize the screen that

Separates us? Or will there be a time,

When I can caress with care, your long hair?

To the land--be damned! The roads--them too!

When I can look to a cloud or bare, black 

Branches to see your face, then I am mad!

Or when I stretch out my arms and expect--

A touch, then my mind is better off dead.

For I cannot have, and that has made all

                                           The distance.