she takes her poison
after tea –
before her evening shows
she spins around
the kitchen
and wonders
if he knows
how much of her
remains with him
despite the miles between
how much of her
is captive
to his dreams
once she starred
in color
almost every night
he whispered
while the coffee brewed
for he loved to see her smile
she knows the way
she counts the ways –
every stone by heart
as steps beyond the barn
into the dark
naked feet on hardwood
face against the door –
staring down the darkness
with faith in something more
how much of life is taken
by the breath
that bears us home
a name that tastes the same
is ours alone
. . .
