without you

My heart is not broken, merely obscured:
a full moon behind heavy rain clouds.
It's whole and radiant and removed from me,
shining brightly over the Pacific
and casting light on the Finger Lakes
but unseen from the Atlantic and the Hudson River.

My heart still beats, but quietly:
songs of joy muted to distant humming.
The melody still rings true, but in one part,
without the alto to harmonize,
missing the baritone counterpoint,
just a reedy soprano carrying a third of the tune.

My heart is waiting patiently:
a calendar with one red-letter day.
Days go by, crossed out one by one,
made bearable by letters signed "Yours,"
and never-long-enough phone calls,
coming slowly closer to the moment we'll meet again.