The sun never rose this morning
just a steely, gray overcast.
I awoke, dressed, performing
all daily prescribed rituals,
only briefly reflecting 
on your absence 
while comparing the throb
of the perking coffee 
to my yet beating heart.
It was the weekend,
time to make distractions.
Looking for space,
yet alone, 
a need to search,
to find and quiet
the silent ache.
I walk to the quaywall
to sit, to gaze the horizon
for that very vastness
must conceal all answers
somewhere within the waves
ready to surface, to enlighten.
The cold picks the flesh from my bones.
to permeate and linger in my soul
a lone seagull cries
a song written by my heart.
The darkness approaches
as I realize 
The day has wasted
while I only stopped 
to close my eyes