I see you clearly,
whistling about the house,
happy in the mundane tasks
we shared together.

Apart now,
I reach out to hear your voice.
A sparrow rests upon my touch
as it thins through the air.

The shrill mock teases the silence
in the empty room.
Nightmare-waiting distances
the vanishing point of our separate paths.

“I love you,” remains unspoken
but…holding on.

© Marion Sharville


About Marion Sharville

A website of Poems and Short stories
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