Those I Miss

My home, reduced to an empty nest,

My children eagerly gone their way.

The hours of driving without a rest

Melted like snow on a summer’s day.

I breathe in deeply, this kind of hush

My companion in apparent peace.

Gone the frenzy of a constant rush;

Hail, the chance to write my masterpiece.

Laptop, fire, and tea set the stage

My long-imagined moment of bliss

Crumbles, not from fear of the blank page,

But from a soul coveting those I miss.