For today’s NaPoWriMo prompt.
I watch you go, pull out of sight
along the narrow, leafy road
where nothing stirs except the gentle
flutter of the timid birds.
I watch you go while nothing stirs,
no breeze, no bending creaking boughs;
a rustle in last year’s dead leaves
the only sign that life still breaths
though out of sight, heartbeats away.
Mute and motionless, I stand
in the roadway silent now
and empty, waiting for the dusk,
the steady lowering of the sun
that marks the time until the leafy
narrow road will bring you back.
I watch you go, become a tree,
so still the blackbird starts his song
and weaves its honeyed thread about
the hawthorn blossom’s putrid scent.
Absence shrinks the heart as dry
as last year’s shrivelled fallen leaves.
I watch the road,
the flutter of dead leaves,
mute the dusk,