Published: https://mockingheartreview.com/volume-9-issue-1/9-1-poetry/dianna-mackinnon-henning/
Touch me in the night of my body.
Where the wind can’t get in.
Where the flowers are layered rose petals.
Already I have loved you, have missed you.
What remains is that which cannot be spoken.
The other day I heard a wind speak your name.
Willow branches seared my arm
as I walked where we once walked.
I remember you because I cannot forget.
Already my loneliness is dark with grief.
Nothing remembered that can’t be retrieved.
Your hand was beside me in my sleep.
Already my body is a homecoming.
I’ll wait on the front stoop near the lilacs.
In the distance your footsteps grow louder.