there is just one apple on the tree it isn't like i'd hoped it'd be yesterday when there was still you i looked, and i swear that i saw two
maybe a wandering white tail deer came in the night to make it even more clear and left me just one, a spartan no less to remind me of my new loneliness
now there is just one oar leaning against the wall what of our plans for paddles in the fall with the reeds grown high in a winding maze we were to follow old waterways
maybe a hovering dragonfly will rest on a cattail and wonder why there is no clamouring at the shore of two in a canoe with each an oar
now there is just one pillow on the bed where a solitary someone lays her head a stack of books meant to be read aloud closed and dusty awaiting a crowd
maybe a spider in a high corner keeps his tiny eye on the still mourner and waits for the other to slip under the cover and relight the dark candle lit between lovers and replay the melody made by two lovers