Gray and Cold

September 3, 2009
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A whisper courses through my hair late at night

Tickling my ears.
I turn ‘round, and lo, there you stand.
On the sidewalk, in the pale lamplight,
Gray and cold you stare.
Gray and cold you penetrate.
The flow of my blood has stopped and my breath stolen away.
I utter your name, an inquiry of my longing soul.

The forbearing soldier offers no reprieve.

My scream ensues in the darkness,

Your name, it’s content.
Silence fills the gap between our beings,
The black eyes incessantly staring.

The wind blows a chill down my spine,
Fallen and dead leaves are swept before my vision,
A veil to my eyes.
But, yet, they drift away as waves on the sea
To show the vacant space where once a man had stood.
My feet race to his resting spot,
And in his place are not but a black pair of footprints,

Black as coal.
Tears tumble onto my cheeks while my heart is left bleeding…
Your name: the last whisper produced from my trembling lips
And choked throat.
Your name.
Your name.

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