Going, going, gone

Dark dawn followed by dim light.
Magpies plunge from silhouetted
trees and power lines,
their wings swooping
in graceful arcs.

A train howls out its old lament,
“going going gone”
never stopping to say hello
much less goodbye.

(Goodbyes are over rated)

I ate some blueberries for breakfast,
squishing the skin,
black like the wings of magpies,
between my teeth,
savoring the bitter sweet slice of life.

(His life too short)

And dropped some lavender on the wood stove
the sharp scent reminiscent
of that persistent pain in my heart
that howls out its old lament.
Going going gone.