Quills and Frills-9/13/2014 Aleathia Drehmer, Poetry

Aleathia says:

We Linger at Dawn

We linger at dawn

hanging in what's left
of the nights breath,
cling to summer's skirt
with cold tips of fingers.

I left a man lying
in a hospital bed,
old as mountains,
and sweet as honeysuckle
knowing his end is nearer
than I can explain.

I'm sad for his wife
who flits over him
scared in possibility
and knowing,
in the dark pit
of her stomach
the horizon.

Days like these

are when I miss my mother most.

Cool new fall mornings
when we would drink strong coffee
and talk of the bacon we would fry later.

I never get  to have any more
of those moments, those days.

There is so much regret
hanging in my breath as it sails
across the field and over the highway into the gray sky.

There were so many more things

to share and laughter to hear.

I have to pull up my boot straps
and leave this icy spot, go home
to my panting dog and sleeping lover.

It feels unfair sometimes
though I know we all must fade away in the end.

It's unfair how we take
it all for granted
until it is ripped away.

Aleathia Drehmer 2014