Things I Miss

I miss downstairs without fear.
I miss lying on my belly and watching the rain out my bedroom window
I miss hopping in puddles, driving stickshift and
I miss the gratification of a full armload.

I miss wandering.
I miss wandering fingers, wandering eyes that suddenly meet across a porch.
I miss the hands running through my hair.

I miss sleep.
I miss showers in the dark.
I miss not knowing what I can't do.
But I am patient. Inhumanly patient.
And we both know what there always is.