Writing Words Again

When is the last time I wrote a poem?
What could I write about?
How it seemed so much easier to write
when I was younger.
It was so much easier.
I could write about anything,
even if something so simple.

Like the feeling of the cold air
as it burns my cheeks,
Contrasting with my hot face.
Or the way a sunrise looks over the horizon
and over all the buildings on Alpine,
watching from my balcony.
How it seems to slow and still the motion
of the traffic bustling by.

I wrote about the feeling of love.
Desire to know another human.
To touch them, or how it felt
for them to touch me.
A warm hand on my face and
the small of my back,
Or hot lips on my neck.

I wrote of ambition,
and how I often felt ambivalent
trying to succeed.