lamentation

in all the different ways to say, ‘i love you,’
his was the best.
a foreign place never visited before—
but Adeline’s familiarized herself with its layout.
every bone,
every color —
even the garden looks the same
as it had appeared in her dream the other night and the night before.
she walked slowly —
savoring —
and waiting to wake up.
but he clasped her hand
and on she dreamt
running her fingers over the cool
cream of the marble countertop.

Adeline stirred her tea
glimpsing the bare white walls
full of opportunity.
they were darkened by shadow
tinted blue by the waning moon.
sleep had not come
for she had naught to dream of any longer.
Adeline waited for dawn to caress her garden
and slowly creep through each fine glass window
until the carpets were illustrious with morning color.
his arms fell upon her shoulders,
his kiss fell upon her cheek.
and together they settled in
for dawn’s fire.

half a century often feels like one brief moment in time.
the walls no longer bare, but full of bold colors:
sapphire by moonlight,
mauve brushed with dawn,
and a ruby so bright, it seemed to reflect a candle’s light.
his arms fell upon her shoulders,
his kiss fell upon her cheek
as they stood on the cold concrete of the sidewalk
watching the fire rage within.
sirens were a requiem,
the neighbors’ gasps a ghostly chorus.
it felt like a dream.
but he clasped her hand,
and on she dreamt,
full of cold and darkness
untouched by the waning moon.
the fine glass windows shattered,
the carpets were an illustrious blaze.
the picture frames of memories
became the embers that marked the trail of a new journey
to an unfamiliar place awaiting dawn.
though the darkness that fell
after the fire was extinguished and dawn rose
was made of the charred remains of an unrecognizable past.

her home had become but a dream once more.