by m.n.
we drove the winding path to you
on that brisk october day
we mimicked the tree hovering over
and stared at the grass through the fallen leaves
while the birds talked and our footsteps
broke the silence
i wandered your home
thinking of how different it would be
if you were here
and how i would not have
run my hand along the cold granite statues
or sat under your tree
we would be blowing out our candles
and smiling while being sung to
but for now
i stare down at you