Waking Without You
Poem By Hugh Cobb
Waking without you has become almost natural:
absence of leaves after a storm
shivering at a touch of wind.
Knowing new leaves will grow
is almost sufficient balm;
yet something in this sun-streak't room
misses your sweet disorder:
jumbl'd piles of lingerie;
open vials of cosmetics
& contact lens solution...
There is no solution to this paradox.
Your absence is final as death.
Focusing on morning tasks,
with which I define my you-less existence,
& shivering like wind-nuded winter trees
endure till Spring.
(Copyright Hugh Cobb Revised 11/08/05)