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.