The Spell #26

Not thinking
only feeling
with unseeing eyes
the dying vine
lime bronze on cerulean blue
strong strong coffee
(I made it for two)
and my pillow
that still smells of you

a roll of building paper
left on the deck
hot and waxy
casts a shadow
on the weatherboard
below the arched window
and your silhouette
still standing there
but out of reach

your hair
in my hairbrush
a willow wand waving
and poof
like an amaretti wrapper
you are gone
no more than a wisp
of smoke
and a wish