Monday, October 11, 2010

Missing my wife ...

... who is currently traveling about Turkey with some friends.

Secret Music

For Debbie

The house, when she was gone too long,

Was like a false cadence, a song

Broken off. The song resumed

When she returned, the house assumed

Its harmony. He was but the silence

Between tones, granting them sense.

He understood, better than before,

The fissure gaping at the core

Of love, dividing take from give,

Something one must learn to live

With, while the other thrives,

Defining sharply married lives.

He still could hear the song

She’d sounded to him for so long,

And even found himself content,

Engaging love’s original intent.

© 2005 F. Wilson

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