Night Crier

by Denise Marie Belnap

Now that you’re gone

there’s a hole in the

floor where your bed

used to be. The closet

is echoing white.

The wind round our

house whistles lonely.

I sit in my chair,

our lamp is turned

off. My mind is my

only companion.

The evening my solace.

A shadow to swallow

the tears that escape

in the blackness.