My cloudy eyes crinkle as I gaze out at the powdery, newly fallen snow My thin hands, ever-trembling, delicately weave designs in the frost on the glass I absent-mindedly let my thoughts turn to the kids and their children A soft smile warms my skin and I slip into happy memories of days far in the past.
My vanity is cluttered with images of my late husband Laughing with his friends after a fishing trip, Proudly holding up the night’s meal. Here, see us dancing alone to the lullaby of the fireflies I remember this moment; swaying under the stars in the coolest breeze of spring I silently reach out to touch the man I held so dear, desperate to feel his warmth again And, clasping the picture frame, I step over to my bedside Turn down the light and lift my weary body on to the pillows I start to drift off, my fingers trailing along the wooden base of our memories The love and dedication etched into the detailing by his strong, rough hands, The hands that held me up until their brittle bones turned to ash. I pull the picture frame up to my chest, Then smile in my sleep, heart contented with his face so close to mine. Believing we are floating away together, one last breath of a blissful life is taken-- I'm coming home to you.