…resembled a wintry night. It was frightening
that first morning after she had gone. I didn’t
want to leave the bed, or her lingering
fragrance but I did- in my sleepy stupor
accompanied by silence. As a grey overcast
reined inside while a bright sunshine of amber
and warm temperatures cascaded outside
gifting the world at large- a glorious spring day.
How apropos- I thought to myself, laying in a
near quiet face down on damp wrinkled sheets.
Poet of the Light © 2018