something new.

Dear Anna,

I keep saying to everyone how much I miss you,

but it isn’t direct enough, I want to scream it out since you aren’t here

and that’s what is on my mind.

Today, I walked out into the frigid air and tossed my head back the way you always do,

arms out, just experiencing exactly where you are to the fullest you possibly can.

Snowflakes tumbled all over me, my

eyelashes were covered in little fluffy flakes.

If you had been there, you would have

understood how weird all this is, that

something as little as snowflakes in eyelashes is

totally new and foreign, overwhelmingly strange.

Someone sang a song we’ve sung countless times in the kitchen,

I carried the harmony without even thinking, half-expecting

your mellow tones to spring up out of the air and croon out the melody

in that dusky, raw voice of yours.

We’re older, yes, we’re growing, things are changing,

but that doesn’t change the fact

that no one asks me what I dreamed about

when I wake up.