TEN YEARS LATER

Ten years and more later,
walking without you,

there is a familiar loneliness, that

has always been mine, ten years of being alone

at the edge of aloneness,  a peaceful stillness,

a solitude that understands there will never 

again be you and me, the complete companionship

of two wild hearts.

At the river's edge, the dappled sunlight

plays across the water; the great trees

lean down. We walked here, so often,

together, your brown eyes gleaming,

nose to the ground, smelling all 

the wild smells, tail and ears up,

alert for scurryings in the bush.

Ten years ago, I dreamed of you.

You had been gone for more than a year.

You looked uncared for and sad.

You were missing me,

as I was missing you.

I am always missing you.

I carry you within, a big black wolf,

in my wild wolf-woman heart.

On nights when the moon is full,

we both give a long, silent howl.

Inspired by David Whyte's Ten Years Later. The italicized lines are his. Sharing at earthweal's open link.