Whispering Words
By Susan B. Doyle

I hear his words whispering
through the forest of my mind.
His words bounce between the trees
as I barely survive
in the layers beneath the shadows.
I know his words intimately
and as they echo in my brain,
I mindlessly play hide and seek.
I wonder if the forest flowers
hear my grief.
I finally crawl into a single shaft of sunlight
that is my borrowed peace.
I stop suffocating and notice,
for the first time, two flowers,
one crushed and one living.
My mind is sprinkled with dew
so our love never dies
and I still hear his words whispering
through the forest of my mind.

My husband and I own a small breakfast and lunch restaurant. We have four children. Other than writing, I enjoy reading and traveling.