Boxing Day

The new decade

upon us,

shades of slate

in our victories

and our losses.

We dream of escape;

there is none.

I hear house sounds

in your absence.

Snowplows,

like thunder,

through the whiteness

that penetrates deeper

still.

The shadow moves with us,

our forever thread,

woven once more,

and still dreaming

we become entwined.

I wake to new life,

your breath upon me.

The house

breathes

in your absence.

It carries me.

Wind, rushing past,

my body alive.

Test pattern static,

keeping the time.

The house breathes,

whispering in your absence,

the clanging pipes,

the hiss of the radiator,

the cold streets,

my hand upon the window pane.