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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


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.


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