Out that old glass and wood door late last night,
I looked up at the sky.
I wish you could have seen the stars
twinkling through pin and water oak limbs.
I wish you could have seen the moonlight,
all gloss and glow, reflecting on the waxen surface
of magnolia leaves.
I wish you could have heard the windchimes.
I slept the sleep of the peaceful,
and met my smile in the mirror this morning.
I hope you did, too.