i miss the laugh of the boy
i miss his youth that is running away
blink and you miss it
pray that you don't
that you can stay in the moment
and view the world through his eyes
i miss dropping in and ducking
i miss the washing machine
nature having her way
and me letting her
wet quiet in a swirling storm
i miss my strings to pluck
i miss my string to stab
joining in the chorus
chasing the groove
touching what has no form
i miss myself sometimes
i miss who i could be
caught up in sorrows
chasing tomorrows
instead of just being to be
i miss you
i miss me
i miss the look
i miss the eyes
i miss the look
