Absence
By Rhona Mae Benitez-Andrews

The door waits, wordless like winter
I can only hear the soft rhythm of silence
As night unfolds herself,
and raises its petals to vanished hours

Here, the old photographs sigh
memories slither down the walls
while I listen to muffled mourning
of the rain

Your absence intoxicates,
the horizon hides you in vain
caught in cobwebs
of elusive epitomes

I can only write your name
in empty pages of time,
in lucid words trapped in thorns
in lifeless veins that run
across my soul

Still, the wind weeps
amongst leafless trees,
barren like my existence
for You, my love,
are the air that I breathe

Tonight, I watch the door
with darkened eyes
w a i t i n g
for dawn to seize
the stars

© Rhona Mae Benitez-Andrews