the cold morning sky

 

. . . . . . the night came quickly to draw the closing of another day.  the deafening silence was something that became just part of the routine.  the sound of the tea kettle whistled in the presence of  the abandoned company.  i fill  my mug with the water as the steam rose, and i drop in the tea.  i walk it over to the bedside table and set it down.  to the bedroom window, i walk over  and watch the wind whistle through the trees.  small sparse snowflakes start falling and frost forms on the outer edge of the glass.  pulling the robe tighter, keeping the warmth within,  i walk to the bedside and quickly slip in the awaiting bed.   the cool comfort the bed sheets was welcoming, but the vacant pillow next to me was unfamiliar.  //   sleep,  that’s all i needed.  the unfamiliar period in the day where i could just go an try to forget the stress,  aggravation and disappointment of the day and slip into a deep dream,  a place where i can find you again.  i sip on the  warming tea  as i reach for my book to read a few chapters.  poe,  hemingway or dickens come alive as the words strike images in my head.  but quickly my eyelids start to become heavy and my attention to the words become faded.   placing the bookmark,  closing the book , i turn over to turn off the bedside lamp.  darkness quickly covers the room as my restless eyes adjust.  a deep sigh and all the thoughts of what went on,  all the things i did wrong, what made each other tick,  her smile,  her laugh.  all the good times and even all of  the bad,  everything we had  etched well into the loneliness.   my mind desperately seeks,  searches for a sign or something to let me know that she’s still there,   thinking about me.  buts all about  the endless game and question of “what if”  and keeps my sleep awake.  a quick early winters wind passes by the window and the glass rattles.  the conversations i have in my head lead me to believe that im going crazy.  the endless thought of her,  her hello’s and her goodnight’s  stained the memory and present thought.  the constant stress laughs and tic tocks, picks away at the man who once was me.  uneasy restlessness  slowly crawls from my lower back and squirms up my back into my neck, arms and finger tips.  i toss and turn,  and i become a bed sheet burrito.  i force my eyes to find the sleep,  and the black of closed eyes calm.  deep and deeper i find a slice of calmness.  //   the phone that sat alongside of the night stand lit up and awoke my slumber.   in the foggy haze found between sleep and being awake,  i found your name on the unread text.  sitting up quickly,  i read the modern day sent message.  it said that you  needed to talk to me and that you wanted to see me.  she’d been thinking about me just as much as i was of her.  she wanted to see me,  now.  my first thought was that this was another wicked dream,  my mind playing a cruel joke.  i’d seen her coming back to me in many of my dreams,  my hopes,  but none that were real.   i jump from the bed and quickly freshen up and dress myself.  i grab my keys and quickly walk to the truck.   in the short time that i fell asleep,  the sparse flakes of snow had actually grew to a good accumulating covering.  the truck turns over and the wipers shove the small amount of snow aside.  as i drive,  the quietness of the night,  the headlights catch the falling flakes and the tires cut through the slush.  up ahead on the horizon,  the light of dawn started to break and up ahead another set of headlights came up from the hill not too far away.  as i fixed my eyes back to the section of road ahead,   a quick blur of a young deer darted out from the dark wooded grove alongside the road.  slamming on the breaks,  swerving to miss,  the truck began to fishtail.  fighting the spinout,  the truck finds the opposite side of the road,  a ditch,  an open field.   as the first tires caught the ditch,  it flipped the truck over and over.  flip after flip i lose grip, my head hits the windshield and ejects me from the seat.  out  ten yards away from the smashed truck,  i land on my back.  the ground cold and frozen.   the headlights from the oncoming lane stops and i hear the man rush up to me.  the snow crunches as it collects under the soles of his boots.  he quickly removes his coat covers my chest and arms to keep me warm as he calls for help.  i tell him that im fine,  but he doesn’t hear me.  off in the distance,  the faint screaming of sirens become louder,  once again i hear him tell me that help is coming,  but i tell him that im fine and that i need to see her.  again,  he doesn’t hear me.   as i see the police cars,  firetrucks and e.m.s. pull up,  i scream that this is all not necessary.  no one hears my words as the paramedics hang there heads over me.   and as they worked on me,  i was on the cold ground, white sheet and all.  but i was seeing this from above it all,  out of my own.   daybreak,  and the sun crests above the wooded horizon.  the cold morning sky softly glowed a soft blue, peach and grey.  off in the near distance,  the birds sing their morning song.  //  im looking for you,   and i don’t want to leave.  i want you to come back to me as if it was the beginning.  but as it came to be,  there weren’t any messages on my phone saying that you wanted me back.  that part i dreamt i suppose.  when you left,  i was never the same.  the void took my soul,  my motivation.  i need you and  i needed you.   the memory always haunted the present.  but as for what it was,  it blinded the future.  {the past always haunted the present,  and blinded the future} and as i moved along the day,  it was as if my feet were stuck in the cement. //  the night came quickly to draw the closing of another day.  the deafening silence was something that became just part of the routine. the sound of the tea kettle whistled in the presence of  the abandoned company.  i fill  my mug with the water as the steam rose, and i drop in the tea.  i walk it over to the bedside table and set it down.  to the bedroom window, i walk over  and watch the wind whistle through the trees.  small sparse snowflakes start falling and frost forms on the outer edge of the glass.  pulling the robe tighter, keeping the warmth within,  i walk to the bedside and quickly slip in the awaiting bed.   the cool comfort the bed sheets was welcoming, but the vacant pillow next to me was unfamiliar.  sleep,  that’s all i needed,  . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

 

 

c.2013  bgw

About bradford graham west

enjoy poetry about life, emotion and everything in between. it's real and true. - please read and enjoy! - bgw
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