Growing Dark, End of December, 2006

It is growing dark here in Ottawa. I am in my office on the 6th floor looking out at the sky as the light passes away. I feel something, some emotion of sadness, of loss, of the death of the light, and wish I could, now, reach out and touch your hand as this feeling gently flickers through my mind.

I realize as I think this that this is often true: that I often I wish you were here so I could reach out to you. Reach out to touch you, to hold you, but also just to share all this that is inside of me. To share it with a woman who loves me. To share it with you.

I love you very much,