A small two months without your presence
I will miss you,  I am an empty vessel
A garden watering can on a hot day
Metal burning--too hot to touch, dryness and dust

I am not a senseless bucket
waiting to be healed
by love and compassion
like a child unable to understand
the absence of mother's love
sitting in the void of a soundless and empty house
If that silence has a name, it is terror

Outside, a sun drenched day cooled by the ocean's breath
Inside the cave of the house, a profound stillness and foreboding
an emotional vacum without the oxygen of concern
dry, forgotten grass blows softly across the yard
Inside, fear and yearning, like the cold concrete hallway
outside the cell on death row
dead child walking