Spring Frost

The being alone

hit me unexpectedly

tonight.

So I go back to the reminder

I have used for months now:

Instead of this alone,

I could be lonely

lying next to you.

And that alone

is a lot more bone-chilling.

Like a flower bud

caught unware

of an impending spring frost

Burned by the cold,

Gone -

before it’s time.

So tonight,

I’ll have a night of self pity

and potato chips in bed.

All the while

with this whisper

Echoing in the vast halls

of my inner knowing:

At least it’s warm in this alone.

At least there’s no frost.

At least I’m safe to bloom.