You wrote down
Every time you saw a chickadee
When I saw you
You would tell me about them
Never did I see you as happy as when
You talked about those chickadees
Your deep brown eyes grew wide and bright
I swear I could see the whole world in them
Your gestures big enough to swallow
This universe
And the next
And your head on my stomach
Staring up at the sky
Right where we were supposed to be
But now?
Now your eyes are glassy and cold
Your gestures non-existent
Your head lies on a pillow
Which lies on wood
Which lies in the ground
A part of the earth that I used to see in you
And now
Now I don’t see chickadees
Only mourning doves