The seat next to you

I thought of you today
your warm hands
the smell of your car and
that halfbroken radio
the way I used to sit there in
the seat next to you
admiring you as you drove

letting that scent of pine from
your clothes find it's way up my
nostrals, calming me down

I wonder if you're out there
in that wellknown spot among the trees
pulling down those skiis from the roof
planning to ease your mind by running
a while with the wind.

I really miss you, you know
and running away from things are
not always the right way to go.