Loss

Hidden in the cemetery
Wrapped in Houdini’s coat
The rain falls from my eyes
Burning my soul.

Searching for a tissue
I find a photograph
Of my angelic caterpillar.
Smiling into my worn red eyes.

Only a week ago
She was nestled into her soft chair
Feasting on whatever was in the fridge,
The kitchen left for me to tidy.

I’ll float into the room later
Unseen, unnoticed,
No one will ask for dinner.
The kitchen, empty.