As I trudge up the hill, towards the place our paths would merge,
the frigid gusts of wind freeze my tears halfway down my face.
I bury it deep inside my scarf for want of escape, as
my eyes tightly shut, I continued to climb despite each opposing urge .
To my left is the lake, partly frozen over and glistening in the sun.
while I am unable to stop and breathe,
to take in the splendor of snow-covered tree skeletons which surround me,
each gaze tempting me to cease my trek, instead I run.
Silence is all I hear except for the leaves dead under my feet,
their crunching accentuated by their coat of frost.
The beauty surrounding me is tarnished with reluctance as
I hasten my pace even more, a feeble attempt to abandon ideas of retreat.
My fingers graze the photograph in my pocket, slowly curling to a close.
What I would give for things to be how they were,
back when there was meaning behind conversation,
instead of this vacancy I’ve grown to not oppose.
It’s only a memory now, nothing more than a dream, I doubt
seeing me now will cure the isolation she has accepted as normal,
our friendship arouses neither regret nor a longing for the past.
I was in no hurry to be reminded only her body would be waiting for me, her mind and spirit without.
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