Windmills

image by Skip Hunt

I used to be afraid 

to love you too much

fearful

that should you leave, I would long 

for your return

I didn't want 

to miss you so badly 

it hurt

to whisper your name

to remember your smell

I held a part of myself back

for myself

so you couldn't take it all with you

when you left

If only I had known

that hoarding food makes you hungrier

unquaffed water evaporates

and all the windmills in the world

won't bring the wind.

submitted for Magpie Tales, 76

Poetry Potluck, 46 Love, at Jingle Poetry