Perched on the window seat
she watches as he rakes the lawn,
and smiles at the leaf stuck in his hair
then sighs as the wind blows the image
away.
She talks to him as she wanders the
empty rooms and listens to his reply
in the squeak of the door that he never
repaired.
Looking in the mirror she applies
her makeup just the way he likes it.
Standing in the closet she takes one
of his shirts from the hanger and slips
it on, inhaling the hint of his
cologne that barely lingers
there.
Slipping into bed she cuddles
into the mattress feeling for
the indentation of his body, closes
her eyes and searches for sleep
left only with memories
and her madness.
