A Darkening Room

The light begins to take cover under a sea of clouds;
the clouds move closer and grower darker and darker.

I keep the light off in my room, waiting for the rain to
begin, and hoping for the chance to show you a photo.

You are stuck in North Queensland being burnt by the
sun every day; I sit here in the cold, wet winter I love.

The night creeps closer, and the sky becomes darker,
as the rain starts to fall and move down the window.

I take a series of photos, then send my best one to you,
although I think you will say the weather is yucky again.

The night sets in. I imagine you out and about in the
garden, talking to the neighbour or cooking dinner for two.

You stay locked in North Queensland, and I stay locked in
Gippsland, as we wait for the chance to hug and kiss again.

The light is a faded memory on the horizon, as twilight loses
to the night and the absence of moon and stars leaves only
the reflection of someone I should know better in the window.

Red Cedars

Seated at the window watching
the way snow falls on red cedars.

Night crept up too quickly,
as the days shorten to hours.

You are never far from my mind
as your tree grows taller, redder.

Snow covers our world of love,
and the red cedars stand tall,

and the red cedars stand tall;

they are a reminder of the blood
and the way you passed from light.

Seated at the window watching the
way snow falls on what was our love.