Somewhere in the middle of October

the days are darker
I walk with my coat up tight
a scarf wrapped round me
I search my pockets for gloves
to keep this chill from piercing

Not Here

I pull my sleeves down, cover my hands. Play with the wool that has unraveled. The wool that you wore. Breath in. A hint of you. Though it has been through the wash again and again. Still it has a part of you. I wrap myself in this jumper. Too big. I echo within. Watch the rain stream down the window. Watch the drops fall from the sill.

A bonfire for one

I sit, surrounded by things. Things you used to own. Photos of things we’d done. I gather them up, into a mountain of memories. Set them alight. Watch us burn. Alone. I watch the fires dance. Bright sparks reaching for the night sky. A tear in my eye. I look to the stars, watch the smoke weave it’s way to them. A chill in the air. I sip my mug of wine. Say goodbye. Watch the fires burn. The heat fade. The ashes sit grey.