
With the Snowfall
I thought of you this morning
with the snow falling
slowly, peacefully, quietly.
My warm blanket
wrapped around me
and the glacial air
filtering the room.
If I was still with you,
you'd be on the couch
in the living room
on the phone talking
about business.
Your pen in hand,
laptop open,
serious and focused.
Our bedroom, my solitude
not just separated from you
but a loneliness,
a steady desertion from
the unified existence,
the connecting thread
that weaves everything together -
a kind of love I always craved.
Why when I left bed
to come out and see you
a smile on my face
arms eager for your warmth
would you turn the other way?
Why when I wanted simple affection
would you rather turn into yourself
your work
others
instead of the person in front of you
the one who had given you the love
you never had
yet always wanted?
Snow fallen days were cold outside
but our apartment was colder.
I can still feel the frost of disconnect
while sitting on opposite ends
of the couch;
me looking over at you,
your eyes on the TV
or your phone
and my mind would wander
outside to the birds
sitting on the large oak tree
imagining what life would be like
if I listened to myself
to the inner stirrings of my instincts
the guiding light that is ceaselessly
leading me
to where I must go
to who I am destined to be.
I look out
toward snowy landscapes,
and the choir of birds
a family together,
among branches
in the old pine tree,
and even though
I am now alone,
I have never felt more
in good company.
