Two Beds

Midnight, I'm lying in the soft bed, the dog curled into my side.  She's already asleep, comfy and unworried.  I'm lying in the soft bed, in the dark, barefoot and thinking of you in the dark in the cold graveyard, you in your coffin deep underground under the earth, in your suit and shoes.  Spring comes late to the Adirondacks where you are now.  Midnights in the graveyard are cold.

In all my imaginings of the way things might turn out for us, never did I ever think there would come a midnight in spring like this, I in the bed alone and you alone in the grave.