She missed the mornings when hello was the first thing on his mind

The soft dawn breaking just beyond the tall redwoods seemed so dark of late

With the shadows resting
in heart shattered overcoming the light temporarily

She thought of how in earlier days his hands could hardly get enough of her

Now, it seemed, he fumbled and played a role off Broadway

Gentle good finding itself lost in the ways and means of life gone for naught forgotten

Crashing onto the forest floor like a pine cone shaken loose from its thimbled gnarled branch

Ebbing far and few between now those hellos seemed empty and forced

She found sitting now on the deck of her abode alone

Save for the birds and sleepy bees with wet wings lost and heavier among hum of season’s first pounding rain

Her lover was miles away drifted by the pushing of her erratic mood and tears wanting her near him the way she once was before after new beginnings of honey and moonshine

She felt lost, in this sea of sorrow with its steely coolness upon her skin though culpable in palpable pain

Discomfort though oh-so-so-familiar this boned handling cutting like a well forged buck knife with stains and divets left to rust

Taunting her happiness like a jester in court quietly laughing to himself, a bluejay sits screeching and cackling watching over all of this just a joke of all jokes

Only she was no longer laughing.