Here on Earth
       

The field behind our house tonight
reminds me of an empty bed
with drifts of snow like wrinkled sheets
and shadows where you laid your head.

A month and six days since you left,
and night is when I feel you most.
Sleep won't come. I sit outside
trying to ignore your ghost.

Instead, the snow piles up. The woods
beyond the field grow darker still.
I shut my eyes against the cold,
swallow another sleeping pill,

and brace myself to face the numb
white space, the bed you're missing from.

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Copyright © 2020 Chad Abushanab All rights reserved
from Ecotone
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission