Absence



You went away and left 

thoughts cascading like lava, words 

like fire.  I push them back

in my throat. I dream  



a morning world,  wet ferns, green lace 

growing between fallen branches

mist veiling gauzy woods, ghostly 

lines of trees on the shore, our shadows 



patterning the water  A molten sun 

rises covering the hills  

with orange light.  Whispers, words 

overheard, echoes of love.  I wake alone 



to winter night, ice on my window 

absence against my spine.

© Margaret Malloch Zielinski