What has been said, all fondness, now is gone, replaced
by murmurations of indifferent looking words, unbound.
I connect the dots they are to make a life line
for us both, but where are you? The buoy has sunk.
Clueless do we swim in darkest water with no ground.
Still life goes on. Today I watched the storm
turn over littered pages: words once printed –
fading dots, they spoke to me without a sound.
Maybe it’s time to read back all your letters
but I don’t expect the fondness will be found.