a poem, by Michael Sherrillo
So close, and yet so far away,
My neighbor across the street.
Why is it a few yards of air,
Feels more like miles of concrete?
Because, as my heart reaches out to yours,
You quietly, peacefully, sleep.
All I need do is pick up the phone,
to rouse you from Sandman's keep.
But I think it'd be best,
If I just followed suit,
Since I know I'll see you
In my dreams.