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When the Earth Held its Breath
When the earth held its breath, and the trees stopped speaking in green, I found your shadow pressed into the silence— not like absence, but like the memory of warmth left in a chair after someone has risen. I did not call your name. It was already there, inscribed beneath the skin of rain, folded into the hush of wheat fields bowing under the weight of their gold. Even the wind carried you— not as sound, but as the echo of longing before the voice has formed.

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https://jeffreyfreeman.me/blog/when-the-earth-held-its-breath/

#Poetry & Literature #Freemo