From across the room your eyes search his face for signs of someone you once knew— someone who'd offered a sense of home, promised wonders beyond your reach— but now he leaves you behind like a disposable fork in a styrofoam dish.
This challenge is for short stories, but I was in the mood to write some poetry, so here you go! 🙃
When the grass leans in to hear
whispered secrets of naked branches,
when a smudged white sun smiles lazily
through the wintry haze,
when a crystal blue paints
the never-ending dome over my head—
oh January, that is when I know
you are finally home.
The wind sighs through the leaves, like a play-worn child on the brink of sleep; bursts of birdsong punctuate the silence of dusk as it falls, a slow curtain engulfing earth's stage.