Rest your weary mind
My love
Rest your stricken heart

Permit time
Permit soonness
Permit fondness promised

When seasons change, as they will
When notes become no more
Permit the absence, too


There Is much to care about

She decided softly, coming out of the sleep, hoping it’d be sun-filled today

No One can tell you you can’t

Too old to pretend there isn’t a timekeeper ticking, tsk-ing, somewhere 

At all the actual missed, like yesterday’s newest flowers or the tea together 

And the perpetual wish to cook something with saffron

The absence, the questions, the thoughts, the things she needs help with

Those photos for example