Departure

She mutely studies the scene but feels no chill,

despite stirring leaves and sallowed sky. Numb.

Maintaining composure commanding all her will.

Thumping chest, thoughts swirling. He did not come.

Inner world interrupted - bird call she does not know.

Sits again devoid of intention, signage increasing glow.

Porcelain hands grip the cold iron bench, eyes stained red.

Mouth grows dry. Mind a carousel of everything not said.

Time without carriage here; subservient to shredded heart,

shards of which lay scattered across the dewing lawn.

Light has taken flight; suddenly an awareness to depart.

Yet still she stays, bereft of hope. Expectantly forlorn.