Most days I have a chance to see you – but not an equal chance.  Sometimes I am boxed in and confined and I don’t have a hope.  Time with you is rationed.  Perhaps, though, this rationing stops me taking you for granted.  I plan and scheme, arrange and plot.  That place; at that time – then I might just catch a glimpse.  I miss you.  Today I will.  I will see you.  Briefly – before you go away again.  I will be filled with joy; and if I see you all, I will gasp at your beauty and smile – overjoyed.  Beautiful winter sun.


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