Perhaps I should tell you.
I carry you in my pocket—
Which means I see you,
Sense your pulsing mood
So close against my own naked heart.
Please, there is no need to worry.
I can bear the pain, the loss,
The deafness and refusal you send back.
I feel it even in my dreams.
Sometimes I take you out of pocket,
Turn you over in my palm,
Draw you close in ways you will never know,
Bless you in forgiving prayer,
Hold you tenderly in unending love.
How lovely to be that person…I so hope they know they are carried in your pocket. …such a dear and loving poem Fred.