Bad Weather

“Use your words,” I implore you, but only in my mind,

as I wipe from the counter three spilled drops of morning coffee

that missed the pour from pot to cup.

I note that the gray cloud,which has seemingly enveloped you over the past few weeks,

Persists.

Here we are again. Still.

As I remove a bowl from the cabinet, I feel your eyes fixated on the back of my head, following me as I whirl about the kitchen engaged in my morning routine.

What have I done wrong? What have I done right? Your silence fuels the mystery.

The pantry holds an enormous bounty of goodies, from which I select my usual breakfast.

A sunshiney character on the box of cereal conveys a message I don’t believe will soon manifest. “It’s going to be a happy, shiny day!”

Where did we go? Who are you? Who am I - without you?

Your emotion isn’t anger, yet neither is it love - anymore.

A change has seemingly crept in driven by an intangible force over which I have no control.

I guess ... ?

Will you ever be back? Will we ever be whole – again?

My words have been spoken via questions, statements, conjecture and rhetoric.
My words have been written via letters, notes, cards and memos.
Yes, expression occurred, but communication did not.
Speaking was plentiful, but conversation lacked.

Words are powerful.
Words are transformative.
Words can cut, yet words can heal.

Use your words.