Waiting

Minutes move slowly

Each broken moment stretches

elongated time

Beginning

Sunday morning tea

in bed, in the silence

I think of you and me

Alive

A slow pulse, quickens

the day a bit brighter

flowers bloom

For you, and you

I light a candle, say your name. The letters dry in my mouth, the word no longer a friend. Yet I think of you as the rain falls, the moon glows, the seasons change again.

Unshelved

Looking through shelves, books and treasures. I am suddenly awash with loss. A cavarn of emotions echo inside. Remembering who I used to be. The things that made me tick. Made me tock. The things that made me. Me.

Gardens

In the garden
I sit on an old bench
watch time go by
thinking of the ones
that were never mine

Pencil lines

Birds fly
across grey skies
like pencil lines
on stretched canvas

Drop off

Dropping you off before anyone else arrives. The lights not quite on. The room not quite ready. I watch you walk away. Unsure of what it is to do. What you’ve done. The cold grey seeps in to your smile. A slight turn. A slight dread. At what’s to come. I walk to the car. The rain falls in a sigh.

Friday

Friday again
I open the curtains,
take in the day

Predictable

I put on the song. The one you like. Read the book you recommended. Sit by myself and drink tea. Not sure, anymore.