Evening sat in a corner

feet tucked neatly beneath

drooping shoulders and drowsy eyes

a coffee mug was desolate

a fan blade turned askew asking

the breeze at the window

said, ‘you there?’

‘I miss’, said she

‘free falling sheets of wetness

the presence of a hand

a shoulder to lean

a heart to hear

random musings

the feet dangling out into the sun

the wind riding next to me

birds snooping on to our words

the grass listening in’.

Her eyes moist

her voice cracking

the night came quickly enough

gathering her to quietude

and that was that.