The truth is dark outside the curtain.

Your eyes are closed to the falling snow

that's nestling at the feet of tall trees

that stand close and crowded 

as commuters on the evening train.

 

If there's a purpose to pain

it's to teach you how to let go.

You didn't realise it but

you can learn to live with the quiet

learn to listen to the space 

of someone's absence.

 

You can find a room there in the silence

like a cabin in a static of snow.

Where there's nothing but a chair and table

and a clean white sheet of paper

on which to practice saying goodbye

over and over.