Brighter Days Without Me

Rain on the tin roof, sounds like you back home. I trace your

name on this envelope, afraid to read it slow. Your handwriting still

dances soft across the page, but every line feels colder than

this German winter's rage. You said you met someone who stays when nights

get long. Said waiting wore you down like the ending of a song.

I fold the paper once, then twice, and tuck it in my coat

right beside your picture, still smiling, still remote.

I don't blame you, darling, not out loud. Silence says the