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
almost a month now-
how can I still be finding
crumbs in our bed
–
fresh coffee-
your side of the bed
is still warm
rooted to the ground
frozen, my mind replaying
one moment in time
–
blinding sun-
the city street
unnaturally quiet
breathless in the rain-
the greyhound bus pulls away
but you’re not on it
–
a cold rain-
my forehead
on the window
standing behind you
the center of attention
almost out of view
–
ill wind-
spiders repair
their broken webs
daydreaming with the
people in the windows of
oncoming traffic
–
pigeons-
walking through
an outdoor cafe
feeling impotent
my head full of words but I’m
unable to speak
–
snow fall-
staring out my
hospital window
champagne glass in hand-
ignoring the obvious
we toast our future
–
midnight sun-
a polar bear prowls
the city streets
the walk to the car-
turning my jacket collar
up against the wind
–
aging-
cold breath
on my neck
seeking inner peace
yearning to quench the darkness
that burns in my soul
–
wildfires-
a cold late
autumn rain
freshly cut lilies
pure and white and beautiful
laid upon his chest
–
city streets-
a blanket
of fresh snow