the house was empty when they woke
the absence a tangible thing, a raw place
where a comfortable companionship
sat content last night between them
borrowing a bit the corner of her afghan,
reading unobtrusively over his shoulder
but it slipped out before the dawn, left
the length of the breakfast table longer,
two glasses of cold orange juice, apart
in silence, they pulled on shoes, light
jackets, went down to the beach, reset
the timing of their heartbeats
to the metronome of breaking waves
returned together to together
—Laura M Kaminski
12 02 2014
in response to/inspired by “Ocean view”