From the deck I watch you drive away
as low clouds rim with gold above the sea.
Ten days of walks along the shore wrapped
warm against the wind, the beach our own—
vast ocean, endless sand, unending sky,
the sound alive with geese and winter
swans afloat on frigid waters, their
kwooing murmurs musical and wild.
The road is silent now and empty. Why so
bereft? I’ll see you in ten days, days of musing
solo walks as my mind surfs for word shells
to echo back my heart. Aimless, I move inside,
pile breakfast dishes in the sink,
lift your mug, still warm with coffee.
Cupped in both palms, I press it to my chest.