To Watch You Leaving . . .

To Watch You Leaving . . .

is to know such pain, it's jagged edges tearing into my soul. As a stake from the garden tears into the warm, dark earth.

To Watch You Leaving . . .

knowing all the while that never again will I fit myself, warm with sleep, against your solid back.

Nor hear your steady breathing. Or feel the beating of your heart.

To Watch You Leaving . . .

aware in every moment of every day that my dreams, my future; once tied with silken ribbons to yours, will never come to be.

And the mornings once so silent and hopeful, us gazing at the mountains and so gently awaiting forever - are now but small pieces of my past.

To Watch You Leaving . . .

your heart a tight fist of anger and your dry eyes betraying nothing of you. I cry for both of us, my love, because you will not.

To Watch You Leaving . . .

is to know that I've lost my place on this earth. My station. My heart's home. That I will wander, forever a nomad. Alone and afraid. And in my troubled dreams watch you leave, again and again.

For the balance of my days.