Pebbles

Tiny pebbles line the path

They will soon echo under booted feet

As another season fades and falls

Soft as dying leaves

Bold as shiny pennies

I clean my teeth – two minutes, twice a day

No looking up to rinse –

There is a mirror above the sink

I palm a little cold water –

Gently smooth it over my scalp

Three months now after it went missing

Birds nestle in twig and feather nests

In the morning they will sing

I look forward to their song

It lifts me up like a sunrise

I place my hands around a milky cup of tea

Contemplate the silence now she has gone

Perhaps all tiny pebbles piece together to form a road –

And then I will belong.