Poems and Prose by Travelers

Loss
By A Kelty

No noise wakes me just one in my head.
"Contrition," I say.
 "Why,"  she says.
"We are different, we are tired, we need to separate and think it over," she says.
"We need to talk." I say.
My head stops talking and the birds take over as they flit about the patio. So happy.
I am happy my head says.
 The weather is beyond fine and the sun now turns the edge of the building to gold.  Mountain air and mountain light combine on my patio to make a miracle.
I watch in awe.
Could she ever see it. Could she feel it. Could she smell it.
A jet glides in over the mountains bringing a hundred people to the city.
None of them will ever be her.

Text A Kelty  © 2013