LOST

Lost

There is silence in the house tonight
the tiny wooden fish dangling from the wooden cat’s pole
twirls slightly in the wind that weaves its way
into the room, from the outside,
where it is not silent tonight.

Hail and wind and rain thunderstorm
pelting the screens, slipping beneath my silence
I cannot move out or up or in tonight,
so I do nothing but sit in the silence
once filled with soft treading paws of those now lost.

Downstairs I hear them arguing. Her voice is in pain
and he, like so many others, defending. This is the only
time I can hear them, and feel strange solace in their
division. I am not alone, maybe, nothing is perfect
as it seems to be, just silent or raging, is there in between?

Inside me it is silent and I am alone, lost,
I told you as I lay sobbing in your arms, you said
I know what you mean. I believe you do, lost yourself,
the only way one could draw someone in so close
then press them away without hesitation.

These are my thoughts, that I cannot seem to lose or let go
of on a silent rainy evening, so close the change
of seasons, but not quite there. This slipping away again
of hope is like that circle, I believe--I hope
and then it is gone. My life a cycle, circling twirling--

black and yellow striped fish barely moves now
glistening in the lamplight of this house
your silence like a tomb, I can feel coldness
seep slowly in, to this place of stillness where

no pet sleeps, no love resides, my heart
an empty womb.