Phantom Voice

Her fingertips caress the end of the stem.
Petals echo their scent with every breath.
She walks at a slow pace, staring at the windows.
Her reflection smiles beside the open bloom.

Clouds surround her feet as she thinks of the days,
When the world is better because he’s near.
Each glance at another shows only his face.
Only his smile. Only his eyes. Only him.

She moves a little swifter. Her meeting is soon.
She sees the future kiss, standing from afar.
Her lips brush his. Her eyes touch his.
Their souls intertwine in the mist between them.

She glances in a window to view the gift.
That single flower glows brightly,
After having been touched by him.
She envies the rose, but she knows not long.

Beyond the shadow of the rose in the window,
She sees him.
Wrong place.
Another woman.
A passionate kiss.
She squeezes.
The prick.
It hurts.

Love is like a rose, covered in pain.
Trying to understand it will drive you insane.
People have tried to learn how it makes you feel,
But the thing about love is no one ever will.
Love is like the water which can smoothly flow
It is also like a turtle which moves very slow.
Love is like the sun which shines from day to day,
But it can also make your heart break in every kind of way.
Love is hard to understand,
And the Lord knows I never can.

“You guys can go ahead without me. I think I’m going to stay around here,” said Miles Crandle.

“Are you sure? We’re planning on having a lot of fun, Miles. We’re going to the zoo and then heading downtown to go window shopping,” said Julie Graylin.

“Yeah. Like I want to shop with a bunch of women,” he said with a grin.

Julie playfully slapped him on his shoulder. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later. Take care of yourself and promise me you won’t go looking through old photos again.”

“You know I can’t promise that, Julie. Sometimes they make me feel better.”

“But she’s gone, Miles. And every time you look at those photos, I can see the pain in your face,” she said with a worried look on her face.

“I know she’s gone. But I will do my best not to look. Ok?”

“Ok.” Julie lightly kissed Miles on the cheek and walked out the front door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure. Coffee in the afternoon at Gerald’s again?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you there.”

Miles closed the door behind Julie as she waved and walked away. He stood in the entry to his three-bedroom house as a tiny tear trickled down his cheek. He remained there for a few minutes, lost deep in thought. After a while, he wiped the tear from his face, and headed to his bedroom, the one that used to be their bedroom. He sat on the blue-flowered bed and reached under it searching for a familiar touch. The album slid easily out from under the bed and he placed it on his lap. Miles Crandle gently touched the white leather cover of the album. His fingers traced over the words “Our Wedding Day” that were embossed in a golden hue. (more…)

On the white sheets lie shades of peach and crimson.
Her brown eyes see tears rolling through the room.
A framed portrait presents a denied future.
Aching, the pale lids close and absorb peace.

The progeny, cheeks wet, quit to another room.
One remains, trembling and daring to defy,
Fingernails dig into the flesh of numb hands.
His mind’s voice screams to the heavens:

My child will never know her grandmother!
She won’t be held by her anymore,
Kissed by her anymore,
Spoiled by her anymore.
She’ll never be able to sit in her lap,
Say ‘I love you’,
And feel the love returned ten-fold!
You!
You denied them both!
And you denied me!

A sob escapes from his lips as legs buckle.
His eyes close in mourning.
Arms drape across shaking knees.
A beaten soul slouches in defeat.

A light flows over the soft grave.
His wet eyes search out the origin.
From within the now pale husk
The tips of feathers reach upwards.

Pearly wings spread from the carcass,
Followed by radiant robes of white.
The heavens draw the angel to them.
Her smile roots its love in the heart of a son.

He suddenly becomes aware of a spectator.
His eyes turn toward the clueless crowd.
Wrapped in the comfort of a mother’s arms,
His tiny cherub watches with smiling eyes.