Time spills
Cut short, life spills too
Lost years burned
Like matches he used to use
Remembering the season when
Leaves crumble beneath
I’d rather look to the sun
That last time with you by the beach
The loss that shatters
More cuts than glass
What used to ground me
Is a ghost of the past
Coming home to blank faces
More support than I need
Months later, no gesture
The condolences ceased
Almost Home was a tune
Brought me back to our trip
Now it’s a necessity
To keep me from losing grip.
A.E.
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