White Feather
Your textile face strong
as a white feather.
Determination set in
neatly labelled crayons
lined up on the table.
We named the colours together,
with the casual manner
of having a life of time.
There was harmony once.
Spontaneous laughter that
filled the cathedrals of
our happiness.
Drifting off to sleep
with the sounds of
our favourite movie
ringing in my ears.
I remembered
knocking on your door
when I first met you.
Copyright © Chris G. Vaillancourt | Year Posted 2016
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