Sleeping alone takes getting used to,
16 years sharing a bed,
the smell of you
always in the sheets.
It's been three weeks
since I came to the house of your
mother.
I watch the moon smile,
slip behind Shinobuyama's
shoulders.
I hear your brother stumble up the
stairs,
talk to himself,
trip over the bathroom slippers.
Our sister-in-law scurries
out of their room, shushes him calm.
The muscles of my body ache.
I twist the pillow tight
against my belly.
NOTE:
Shinobuyama is a mountain in Fukushima, Japan.