Today
There is no joy in sunshine
No pleasure in the drifting breeze.

The storm that waited
These past months
Now crashes in,
wave after wave
and no embrace can
shield me from it's chill.

I press my face
To your silk gown
And inhale the memories
Lingering there.

The small square box,
Strangely heavy in my hands
Holds only ash and dust
To give to
Trees and clouds,
Lake and sky,

And you are gone,
Too Soon.
Too short.
Too much.