A handful of water thrown like glitter to bead against reflective floors
Mirrors my cage in a hundred different ways
If I look closely enough I can see myself that free, that open
With every breath I taste the sharp tang of memories
That without you will never sit with sugar on my tongue again
Now I’m not blaming you or this wooden heart that bobs aimlessly without direction upon this endless see of caged reflection
Just exercising atrophied muscles with which I learn to stretch, to feel
Without drowning these polished plains I place cold feet on each morning
I am Alice here, skirts twisted above my head to obstruct the view
Although I know I do not wish to see it’s vast edges
Not unless they’ve painted you

I find that quiet place between deep black and soft gray
Just as easy as I always have
My mind wanders
The faint outline of not too far off mountains
Calls to a wild place within the marrow of tired bones
Songs of burnt leaves, bare trees and wet things echo in response
3am cobwebbed by mid-December frost
Reminds me of another place and time
When sand instead of snow stretched out before me

Front porch Tennessee shine drunk
I may be seated but my heart is dancing through silver edges along these smoky hills
Moon reflecting off half jar reflections
Mind is eased by midnight soft lights
Somewhere in here I hear your voice a calling
Long stretches of silence marked by whispers laid low
Now I know I could be just tipsy but tears ***** sharp regardless
Memories of deep summer far off and away
Take my hand now as I blubber about days I said goodbye to
Hair once dark and glossy now in long braids is gray
Them stills is all I have now, my copper and me
Soon I will lay too in these hills of Tennessee

I’m going to get better at this
Your missing won’t ache as much
Horrific reinactments of your loss won’t haunt me
Won’t leave me gasping for air covered in tears of anguish
After each restless sleep
Watching others with their happy purrs won’t cut deep like this ravaged feeling of betrayal that mine no longer does
One day
For now I’m going to cry and rage and remain alone, without console
Hoping that one day happy purrs will greet me each morning once more

I have been given such little time here
Seems to me that in that space a hand of sorrow dealt
Widowed at twenty seven
A once purring friend who was nineteen years mine
Now ashes next to those of Jeremiah
Tears fall down swollen cheeks weary of the weeping
More reasons for choosing not to propagate compile
Old newspapers with new headlines I cannot help but read
My bed is less now, my pillow too big
I am still asking questions about the why and how
Where this leaves me- partly in the past and the hollow now
Two urns I carry with me while I wander through the crowd
Two urns I carry with me unto my final hour

Each spot and speckle
Each stripe and freckle
I hold near and dear
A vegan heart with garden farts
It's silly, or so I hear

A strangle hold of memory
Deep roots in rich soil have traveled time and distance
To make fallow fields fruitful once more
An outline of your smile waxes fully in my vision
Weathered fingertips brush gently the dusted edges of dried petals
I can still smell you here among the shadows of winter
Of all the seasons to leave me breathless the cold shell of February
Lends a poetic air to your loss
I'll keep writing of my sorrow, my tenderness
For you will always have a place in my garden
Even if I let it grow wild with weeds and whispers