Bed

almost a month now-
how can I still be finding
crumbs in our bed

fresh coffee-
your side of the bed
is still warm

Trigger

rooted to the ground
frozen, my mind replaying
one moment in time

blinding sun-
the city street
unnaturally quiet

Rain

breathless in the rain-
the greyhound bus pulls away
but you’re not on it

a cold rain-
my forehead
on the window

Puppets

standing behind you
the center of attention
almost out of view

ill wind-
spiders repair
their broken webs

Watching

daydreaming with the
people in the windows of
oncoming traffic

pigeons-
walking through
an outdoor cafe

Frustrations

feeling impotent
my head full of words but I’m
unable to speak

snow fall-
staring out my
hospital window

Change

champagne glass in hand-
ignoring the obvious
we toast our future

midnight sun-
a polar bear prowls
the city streets

Winter

the walk to the car-
turning my jacket collar
up against the wind

aging-
cold breath
on my neck

Transformation

seeking inner peace
yearning to quench the darkness
that burns in my soul

wildfires-
a cold late
autumn rain

White

freshly cut lilies
pure and white and beautiful
laid upon his chest

city streets-
a blanket
of fresh snow