The frigid morning wind
blew leaves past at 7 a.m.
Phone off the hook,
dangling from the cord
like the swaying strings of my heart.
“He’s gone,” the voice had said.
Like seasons come and leave so suddenly.
The wind blew everything past.
but everything seemed motionless–
my blood stopped flowing.
But not the wind.
Cold, like your body when they found you.
Dangling, like my heartstrings.
The bright light you brought to my life,
with your smile,
dimmed and faded.
Like a light bulb burning out.
The wind made everything crumble around me.
And I crumbled to my feet.
Tears flowed like a river,
freezing on my face in the wind.
I don’t know when I felt my blood
course through my veins again. . .
or it I felt it at all.
The wind still blows cold,
and it stings my face in October.
My heart still sways with the wind.
But maybe you have been the wind,
pushing me forward with the leaves.