A cold wind
scours the blue
out of your sky,
erases the sun
from your eyes,
turns your bones
grey as iron bars.
You make a room
of loss and fill it
with abandonment
and grief,
cram stuffed animals
into plastic bags,
hide them
under the bed,
pray with them
at night
while caressing
a facade of dreams
only to stop
as if in mid-air
like a flyer
on a trapeze
realizing
her catcher
has gone.
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Another beautiful, haunting piece Paul. I love the imagery you use to convey emotion. I need my breath, and you keep taking it away word by word
This is a small masterpiece.