You pass by me like a faint cologne -
the scent barely grazing my senses.
I am as empty as a widow's soul.
Your ghostly caresses die like
a distant reflection.
You are an owl beating
your broken wings
into corner niches
that do not encumber my soul.
Feathers slowly drift to the ground like
Autumn leaves almost hovering
You steal light from the white-hooded moon
as your vacuous demeanor dissolves
into nothingness in the thin air
of a peach-colored sky.
Copyright © Dawnell Harrison | Year Posted 2019