I do not tell her I dream of her
So often
She wouldn't want to know

On the eve of her birthday
I dreamt of
Cycling through the desolate 
country lanes to her house

The next day i forget to
wish her–
I'm expected to
Over the phone or through a
greeting card.

We let in some silence in our
busy lives
And I never call.
I cannot tell her I dream of her
So often.