Embers and Echoes

I know you are out there
trying to put your words
your queries
and hopes for the children into the form of
frolicking birds
late day August thunderstorms
a cacophony of cicada wings whirring
northern breezes blowing the Tiger Lillies back and forth.
It is where I hear your voice
paired up with a natural occurrence
waiting for a response.

I have them, I do
my dear Meaghan
I talk from the inside
scrape off the darkness clinging to my bones
shrug off the loss smoldering in my thoughts.
Embers and Echoes
confront the echoes of lost conversations with you
shout into the canyon of where you are
on underground days where my heart lays like a rock on the shore
of a forgotten beach.
Pummelled by tides I am never prepared for.
Low and High
ebb and flow.
I am wading in a circle
shouting into the canyon
waiting for a sign from you.
Soothed by the echoes.
Pulled by the tide.
Swayed by the breezes
humidity blankets
ethereal journey
ashes of hindsight
binging on worry
My promise is fleeting.
On the front porch
Summer night wandering
through the faintly swaying trees
and the thick of the crickets.
I feel you come to me.
I feel your need to breach
the resonating dark.
The night shift.
I will wait there often.