Ever

Skies are thin blue skins
Sensitive hurting awareness
How coming codes for brief  stay...
Going away means gone.

They were at my house for breakfast
But now at lunchtime
Every room in the house
Has  become a memory
Of absence
Signifying
joyous past presence.

My parents
How they're already missing their grandsons
On their flight back home
Brings pricking tears
To my desolate eyes.
I remember wistful pretended gay smiles
Withering in emaciation.
My mouth goes awry
discarding composure.

I guess it won't be the same for quite a while
I guess my slice of sighing skies and eyes
Will mist with moisture
For some more time.

Tears are joyous release
Flow of love
For what the eyes will miss.

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(c) Amrita Valan 2014