I Cleaned Your Room Today

I cleaned your room today, while the scent of you yet lingered in the impression where you laid your head, caressing linens my heart hesitates to launder for want of holding you near. I long for this morning’s sweetness, still cherishing that embrace long shared, remembering how you let me linger in your own reluctance to pull away and how I prayed it not be the last. From your window I watched today, as the snow became earth’s chalky quilt somehow angry at its indifference as it dared to frolic with the very breeze that now carries you away; to a people of desperation in a land whose heart feels only winter’s harshness never tasting her sweet alabaster blessing. How I despise the circumstance of this desolate place yet selfishly hate that it is you she has beckoned. I pray God’s protection as your coverlet warm and thick in the unfailing assurance of a love which will hold you safe at breast as would the troubled and rambling mother who cleaned your room today.