A man, over fifty
years wiser than I,
reaches for a hand
that is no longer there.
He is frozen over
with the chilled air of loneliness,
urging for a love
that has not graced his soul
in many years past.
Memories of her
scattered among the
cracked floorboards.
The house's familiar creeks
are no longer sounds of
home
but the uncertain ticking of
his time, running out.