There were often mornings like this
outside my open window at 604
Washington.

A grey rain damp
black coat day,
served with side of yellow cab ride:
downtown Raleigh
late 2014.

Mud colored sidewalks,
the stench of modernity,
dragging feet and baggage
toward mostly habit supporting
servitude.

Fences and gutters
streetsigns and alleyways,
my flickering cigarette,
ashes in the wind.

Arrive alive. Finally, Kyla.

You tough as nails conundrum.

My love for you so thinly veiled,
so soft against your harsh demeanor.
A satin skin forced to thicken
when your husband's bones
were blown apart
over a foreign and unforgiving desert.

I loved you and your grief.
I love you still.

Words never did you justice
so I'll leave it all at this:

Congratulations darling.