The Home of Her Soul

By Jennifer Alia Wittman

It is seven days later,

together with just myself this time,

alone among 28 flowerbeds, 9 stone

archways, 12 seats in shade and sun,

1011 trees in wood, 31 docents,

45 titles in fiction and non

 

And six small dogs dead,

buried atop a mossy mound.

Jules and Toto, Mimi and Miza

and two other, unrelated little ones.

To all I bow toward the earth and

pay homage.

 

And then there is the home of her soul.

Third floor back corner left, facing east,

in bed with paper and pen, writing her life,

as I tend my tender missing of him,

my soul’s home, across an ocean,

closer still and farther from,

possibly as alone as I,

yet in the company of the One. 

 

* Jennifer Alia Wittman resides in the part of the Berkshires that falls into New York State.