Minimal breach

Missing, is the empty shell

Half buried in sand.

Sadness, is the dried out

Bird nest, in late spring.

My feet slowly wonder,

The wet grass at the edge

Of the golden, yellow, forest,

As the last warm sunset,

Wears the color of your hair.

A nightingale reminds me…

Emptiness, reflected

In the bottom of the well.

Cold, dark, water…

Like the nights without hope,

Of coming together again.