Slides her arm to his side of the bed
Checks the clock, 6am
Remembers the warm embrace
The cozy stretch and falling asleep again
Silently he had left
No sound of the exit door
He’ll be just another dark shape walking past trees and fences
and dim street lights, causing eerie shadows
The road is wet, no sign of rain drops on puddles
His umbrella is still open in the bathtub
She makes the bed
The feathers are still warm on his side.
Presented at a meeting of Surrey Muse Writers.
Helga Parekh is a writer, artist, sculptor, potter, and a performer. View more here: helga-parekh-surrey-muse/