Fall storms this morning woke me long before six
The smell of wet leaves and spent fruit dying on the bough
Snap and crackle ‘neath birds feet tapping the low-hanging feeder.
I must remember to buy more seed.

Early morning mist sleeps silently outside my window
As the faintest glow of amber dawn crests the pasture gate
My fingers, warm against the frosty pane, trace the curve of your cheek
Shoulders broad and strong
Sad eyes spawning rivers running cool on the window sill.

The cat calls for breakfast
Soft paws padding rhythmic pleas on my pillow
I turn to bury my face deeper
In your memory.

Joy sits patiently in dusty journals filled with familiar smiles
Laughter comes hard these days
These long days

Silence lays low like an old quilt where ivory clad notes danced
Swirling awkwardly in a consonant embrace
Now quiet

Another’s eyes hold yours.

Soon winter winds will heal the window rivers’ rush
Stilling time
Soon spring rains will wash clean my soul
Soon the pain of your loss will sweep across my shoulders
Like a warm summer breeze
and again, I'll sing
and laugh
and love.

Soon.