And Alone Now

I've lived scenes of our youth

in a moment

on a gray-mousey day in March when tears chased tears

across my pane.

The incandescent mornings

we shattered rainbow-pools while walking hesitantly through the autumn

of our oneness.

The afternoons when the old songs

echoed faintly as they caressed

gently the ears of our minds

and we laughed at love of them.

and of each other.

The Winter-cold evenings

when our playthings

were covered with snow

and we had so little time left.

Where did they go?

We locked each day away like misers.

Half turning, smiling, and about to say some inconsequential thing

to cover out silence,

I find you are gone.

And you didn't even have the courtesy to slam the door.

think it is still raining.

It all just doesn't seem to matter now.

The wind makes sounds

that I remember we made

when we scraped our nails along the

dusty blackboard to torment one another.

How young we were.

A train

makes its lighted way through the night

as I touch the warmness

of where you left the bed.

"Goodnight my love."

19