And the empty rooms
Echo like a lonely drummer
Who doesn’t have the heart to play.

The timbre of your voice
Has long ago faded in the din
Of all this space.

I listen for the sound of rain,
Some sign that my emotions
Have finally gone south
For the duration.

And my heart
Has gone deaf
In the roar of
Nothing left to say.

A chilly bite nips
Where once our breath
Lit the nights to fire.

I’d leave the key
Under the mat
On the porch,
But I'll be long gone by then,
Learning a new way to sing.

10/05/2009

Author's Note: I think I finally figured out why the thought of moving feels like ashes.

Posted on 10/05/2009
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