Imaginary Wolves


Love is not quiet. It breathes, has a heartbeat.
It pants and it howls.

I know one thing. When you left
our house caved in on me,

a collapse that was less dramatic than it sounds.
The roof did not squash my flesh to the floor.

The house slowly eroded me away
only by its silence.

Since you have left, I search for safety
by checking locks on doors and locks on windows

but wind up outside because the house is so lonely.
Outdoors I hear the wind

discuss current events with leaves and coyotes.
They don’t seem to mind my eavesdropping.

I hate the quiet zone you will not enter
more than I hate imaginary wolves.

Come on home and make some noise
from sticks and stones and the architecture of our lives.

~ by dianeklammer on May 18, 2015.

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