Walking for Cover

Moon glow, nearly full,
brimming, spilling over,
providing a warm wash
this frigid, crisp night,
yet mocking me, taunting,
the world, a double bed.

I walk alone, missing you,
treading the marshlands
yet another twilight hour,
bent marsh grass underfoot,
felled to side-lying, resting
under a thick white blanket.

I feel the urge to jump,
bounce this straw mattress,
tall, but small, unbundled,
longing to fall, flat to ground,
imagining it our bed complete
in warmth, with you for cover.