Death
gentle snow falling
a dog at his owners grave
clawing at the earth
–
winter evening-
your rocking chair
empty
gentle snow falling
a dog at his owners grave
clawing at the earth
–
winter evening-
your rocking chair
empty
the tv on low-
your breathing slows as you fall
asleep on my chest
–
the risen moon-
soft cries heard
as you fight sleep
the year end draws near-
looking back on regrets for
things I didn’t do
–
snowshoes-
stepping out
onto thin ice
a gilded mirror-
reflections of other lives
from across the room
–
frosted windows-
fire reflected
in your eyes
well after midnight
christmas eve fire in the hearth
burning down to ash
–
a warm hearth-
ashes mix with
the falling snow
twisted hotel sheets
warm champagne and melted ice
left for housekeeping
–
an open window-
our naked skin
in the noonday sun
crimson veins of ink
bleed into the blotter from
my old fountain pen
–
guttering flames-
reams of paper
absorb my words
deep in the pine boughs-
a cardinal dusted with
the season’s first snow
–
winter solstice
the last leaf falls
on fresh snow
long after midnight-
my eyes lose their focus as
I write in my sleep
–
well past curfew-
tires on the
gravel drive
freshly cut flowers
in what used to be your urn
on my mantle piece
–
empty boxes-
the dog sleeps
on your side