Travelers

You were never
my North Star

but a fellow traveler
a cheerful companion

who held my hand
on a rocky path

who sang me songs
to pass the time

and kissed my cheeks
so sweetly

that I almost forgot
that your destination

was never the same
as my own

Barren

She'd always dreamed of
holding a baby in her
arms, worry melting

away as fingers
traced tendrils of newborn hair,
nostrils inhaling

the intense sweetness
of fresh, new love.

There was no pain in
the place where life would not grow,
just the ache of arms

forever empty,
instead carrying the weight
of her silent grief

the intense sting of
the word "barren."

--

Three Word Wednesday: barren, intense, worry