She left before I was ready.
Perhaps her smile veiled her true emotion,
shrouding me from the reality
that she had been ready for a while.
Maybe she heard him calling to her,
soft whispers as she slept,
telling her it was okay to let go.
Conspicuous reminders of her appear,
like songs long forgotten
playing on a broken radio.
Repressed smells tickle my senses,
transporting me to another time,
and they render me paralyzed.
She came to me in a dream.
She embraced me as I slept
and whispered words she knew I needed to hear.
When I saw the tree, I knew.
She was here,
in this place,
in the way she would have wanted to be,
in the form she loved so much.
Her sentinels lay in wait,
their wings ready at a moment’s notice,
to be at my side if I needed them.