THEN ONE DAY

And then one day you're gone, no warning in the weather,
no fracture in the hour to prepare my bones to sever.
The morning made its coffee, the sun performed its part,
and somewhere in that ordinary air my heart fell dead and dark.

Coffee still made itself. The sky still did its job. The hour just changed key.
A tall 10×20 matte print — ordinary weather, held still.