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The wild night has ebbed.

The gales of grief that shook the shutters of my heart

exhausted themselves into a mist of sighs.

I've become friends with the stillness of the house

and the empty corners that once tugged at me

like thorns against a linen skirt.

Every dust fairy whispers your name

and their soft mourning comforts me.

I must be healing,

I only think of you when I breathe.

Written in 2010 for my caregiver website, "Don't Lose Heart."

Copyright 2022 ©Jean Fogelberg

Please do not re-post or print without express permission.

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