Come with me now, to the gate where the mist holds court on the driveway. And together we’ll remember the time you left with a goodbye, casual as daisies.
You never came back. As the weeks passed, I swirled down down into the dark soil, looking for you where worms feed and the sun is a blinding surprise. Time became a journey… an inevitable depth filled with grit and pulsing.
Come with me and we’ll watch my socked feet cradled by the puddles like baby Moses in the stream. And listen. How silence drenches the morning. How through the deep caves of thought, I hear a voice that sings. A voice that promises me you’re still here and that I see you everywhere, yellow-headed for the spring.
When I come back inside, the heater’s humming your name. At last. You always loved the mist.
144 words written for dVerse prosery using the line "through the deep caves of thought, I hear a voice that sings" from "The Chambered Nautilus" by Oliver Wendell Holmes.