Your pain was louder than a summer storm when you left me Alone I function, just. I wake early to make you coffee which I don’t drink, so I sit listening for the kettle and the steeping of my green tea A sun spreads orange and fuchsia behind those hickories we loved at our dream home The ranch with the wide hallways your wheelchair traversed My weary arms pushing pictures hooks into walls photographs of a world exhausted flattened memories with no depth Your pain was thunderous, an inferno when it woke us nightly Weary Tears that drowned us Wounds that wouldn’t heal Cankerous and cancerous stealing all that you were all that our hopes wanted you to be We managed with doctors, pills, and music the night dancing, arms that held Our falling world, so short lived So hungry you were, for more I held until your breath paused and drained you All that we were Stopped. A contraction. Your pain was cancelled in that last breath A silence so intense the building shook A violence that tore through everything and wreaked havoc on those atoms that circumnavigated you A void of cataclysmic immensity that ruptured my DNA From within my soul, particles vaporized and became empty space.
Wanderings and Reflections