Buttermilk Sky

The bright winter sky is dappled with high clouds
The color of butter
The light and shadow play across the landscape
Light then dark
Then light

A dark shadow comes across my brow
And the grief returns to my heart
Though our lintel was marked
With lambs blood
Blessed with prayer
Adorned with mirrors
The dark angel still came
Her beauty, awful,
As she sat at our table
And the losses became uncountable
I wonder still when she will return,
Because, oh yes, she will return
Or perhaps, she is just waiting
Sitting on my porch step
Waiting for another shadow to form

My face again is in sunlight
The dappled clouds moving away from the sun
Casting shadows on the winter landscape
Bright in the buttermilk sky.