This is Forever

It’s getting cold.

The grass in the sidewalk cracks is dead.

The crows caw.

The black cows in the pasture–

giant ravens–

a murder of them.

I used to laugh–

your smile on my face.

Some days we’re like

the two butterflies flitting nose

to nose above the flowers outside

the little house

when we make love–

but those days are fewer now.

Father hasn’t left me many things

along my pathway.

Everyday was a gift.

Now it’s quiet.

Even midday an

early twilight.

dim.

They’re running cable lines

down our little road–

still a weak connection.

No use making my bed–

I’m crawling back in it.

I used to cling to the pillow,

feeling you close.

Your little winks and nods

are slipping away.

The way it feels when I kiss you—

a thick veil between us.

Sometimes we still sway our feet together

against the softness of the sheet,

and I know you’re there.

Sometimes when I ask you if you are–

you nod in affirmation.

And then I ask if you’re going to leave me,

and you shake my head, no.

I don’t know what brought us together,

so how can I keep it alive?

The wind through the trees l

like tidal waves crashing

outside my window.

I know when I see you New Year’s Eve,

this will be a dream that only our spirits know.

We’ll smile and swap pleasantries.

All the while, part of you is inside

my body and mind, alive.

I’m realizing this is what forever will look like.

I know how this sounds and how

our connection will only be spiritual.

But even that I’m losing now.

All I can do is pray and wait with faith.

Your smiling face was the first thing I saw

the very first second of this year.

I hope it’s the same as the clock strikes

under the confetti and the twinkling lights,

into the first second of next year.