Sad that you are not here.
I'm freezing here by the warm stove,
find it too loud in this silence.
In the house, it crackles, which is otherwise familiar, threatening:
and even the light of the lamp
throws only darkness today.
I think even the flowers
let their leaves hang
and her flowers are closed,
as if they are sulking.
I drink good wine and
taste nothing but liquid,
and soon my eyes will close,
but I can not rest
my thoughts are too loud
in this silence here.
See your smile now,
to hear your voice
and feel you are there.