When I return I’ll get to be alone.
The only hum will come from bugs. I’ll burn
some time on streaming and my telephone,
when I return.

For solitude I’ve had the time to yearn.
Companion comments have devolved to drone;
the unintended resting-face is stern.

The break’s been good and ideas have been sown.
I liked to sleep atop the ocean’s churn.
But two days hence sweet comfort with be known,
when I return.