Sounds

I hear the warm air

Lifting

Pushing down the cold

I hear the

Emptiness

Of South Street

On Sunday morning

I hear the

Quiet breath

Of my youngest

Slumbering soundly

I hear

The flood of tears

Behind my eyelids

I hear

My mind reprimanding me

For this folly

I hear my heart

Shattering

Section by section

I hear my heart

Shuttering

To weather the storm

I hear my fingers

Typing

The first of many

Heartbreak poems

Sure to come

Ah,

Now I hear

The tears dropping

Softly

Steadily

Onto my comforter

I hear my comforter

Calling me

To snuggle back in

And feel its warmth

I hear my heart

Crying out

"But he was my comforter!"

I hear my mind

Admonishing me

"Nevermore"