For Paul

The sun sets, setting the sky afire with hope’s final, vibrant farewell. Night falls, bringing unending darkness. A branch snaps beneath the cold weight of silence, a perfect echo of my dying heart.

Desolation

I have wandered this endless
winter night so long that my eyes
easily distinguish shadow from
deeper shadow, leaving me more
sure-footed but no less lost. The cold
sits in my bones, deep and relentless,
having long ago chased away
memories of warmth. Fitful sleeps
lead to wakings filled with the ache
of growing certainty that morning
will never again dawn.