Estrangement
A Distance — not of Miles —
But of the Shifting Air —
A Quiet that replaced the Tongue
We once were proud to wear —
A Frost came in the Noon —
And laid its Silver Thread —
Between the Pulse that answered Yours
And Mine — in disrepair —
No Thunder ever spoke —
So softly — as you leave —
Yet every Petticoat of Wind
Reminds me how to grieve —
Estrangement is a Room —
With Windows — shuttered tight —
Where Love still moves — a Ghostly Guest —
And will — beyond the Night.
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