Separation.

There is a rainbow on the bed where you used to lie

A refraction of the light

A reflection of our nights

A transient spectrum that makes

me cry.

There is a cruel sun through the window where you used to stand

Watching and waiting

Not premeditating

The man with whom you once held hands

There is a breeze passing by, gentle and warm

A cloud in the sky, floating alone

A bird in the tree, as Spring feels due

But where now there is me, there isn’t a you.