I feel the summer’s warm gentle breeze

as it blows back the curtains

the birds chirp and sing

I listen for your soft footsteps on the stairs

the sweet sound of your voice

no voice do I hear

downstairs the piano plays a melancholy tune

the air smells of old oak and cedar

no fragrant perfume

the humid air ever damp on my face

the sweat stings my eyes

or is that the tears

I look for you through the window

you are not down by the bayou

not under the live oak

I look for you everywhere

but all I see is Spanish Moss

Copyright ©2014 Buz Bono. All Rights Reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author, Buz Bono.