Endless Deep

A poem about loss

There is a certain stillness
in the crawling day.
Fragments - tucked away
in cupboards and under beds
- that dissolve in the endless spaces
where you once lived.

There is a certain calm
in the glassy night.
Columns of light
slide silently across my bed
when I reach out from the deep
and find you are no longer there.

In love is
a certain peace,
that separates sadness from grief.