a poem

Photo by author

When it got cold here
maybe in December

I drove to the water with the dog you loved
found a beach without many people

tried to set up a chair
and breathe in the dusk winter waves, slow and long;

but the place was foreign to me
just a strange beach on a brown churning sea

even she looked at me questioning
approached the water reticent

then paced in circles barking
uninterested in laying down or posing sweetly;

the grey sky afternoon offered no evening star
no addendum to your absence

that was the last time
I wandered silently in places we never went