Amidst the whispers of the night,
all alone, the mournful moon wept
upon the deepened world of dreams.
The woodland tears quivered
with circles of colorful leaves,
dances of indigo nocturne imprint into dirt.
In wheat fields of golden grain,
when summer days grew longer,
we used to play along the brook as children.
Peppermint leaves we used to eat
grew beneath lilies, sunflowers, rosebuds,
as the grand willow tree breathed shadows.
Silent midnight within spirits of cottonwood
wore tortured hours of heavy raindrops.
Moments passed in the love of death.
Monitor electric lines go flat,
silence overwhelms, steady pulse
whispers death into my sleepless eyes.
I prayed for three nights, crying into her nightgown,
the ER remained keeper of bad news.
Flowers and miniature trinkets lined the bed,
Get well soon, only nothing existed.
I counted my breaths, pushed back heavy tears
and guilt that…