Song of the Brokenhearted

so ends another day of winter
the cold wind pinches my face and skin
i walk along the grey sidewalk
the grey path toward home
the only footsteps are my own, a dull thud on the concrete
my pockets provide some shelter for my hands but
not as much as your hand would
I know i am not lost, for the street upon which i'm walking is familiar
but i am lost without you
strolling silently up the driveway where once your rugged jeep was parked
slowly pulling out a small bronze key
and opening the front door
i enter our home
The couch is where it used to be, and the tv, the fridge, the bookshelf
but nothing is warm anymore
Pictures of us in the park during autumn hang along the wall
shadows and forgotten memories
i kick off my shoes and they land askew in the corner by the door
my coat is heavy and i hang it and my hat on the back of your rocking chair
once, when i came home with the groceries, you'd held out your arms
and pulled me close
and took the bags from me to put them away
but not anymore
the fridge is bare and unused
i land heavily on our thick comforter
olive green
a color you never liked but got it anyway because it matched the curtains
i wish instead that there was no comforter at all
and i that there was you
so i hold my pillow close and can only hope to pretend that you're here
because once you'd closed your eyes and let God take you
that was the end
and now i am alone in our bedroom
holding your pillow
dreaming of you
knowing that when i wake up there will only be silence
and another day