I Think of You

When the sun hits my window on a morning,
And I wake up, slowly stretching and yawning,
     I think of you.

When I see a girl on the street with black hair,
And she walks by, looking like she doesn't care,
     I think of you.

When winter hail strikes my face, so icy cold,
And wind rattles my bones, making me feel old,
     I think of you.

When dark, dreary rain clouds gather overhead,
Like disparaging words that you sometimes said,
     I don't know why I do,
     But I always think of you.

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Copyright © Robert Haigh 2017