Pieces

I still stumble upon something of yours –

a sock,

a receipt,

a misplaced dream,

and it seems you are here.

I go through old papers and photos,

looking,

always looking for you.

I catch a glimpse,

a taste,

a smell.

I try to put these pieces together,

to put you back together, to put you back.

to put you back.

Here,

with,

me.

It is as if you were at the door, looking in,

but I turn and.

the leaves blow in the cool Fall air

The woods are dark.

Someday I will enter that line of trees to look for you.

but for now,

I will try, to stop trying to put the pieces back.

I know,

you told me,

I know.

You would not want me to enter those woods,

before,

my own cold winter comes.

leavingleavesineaves