A Poem You're Owed

Why do you hold out those hands?

To write you the poem that I owe you.

We found ourselves in the first chapter,

stayed there until winter's end.

We've taken turns remembering.

The chemical clouds delivered

it's letters with stamps that glowed

& knew this was love.

The quality of connection

to measure our distances with.

This tender worthy effort

& sometimes it was even none.

I had hoped to delight you.

Tonight, waiting is over so we can be happy.