Nostalgia

Sad that you are not here.
I'm freezing here by the warm stove,
find it too loud in this silence.
In the house, it crackles, which is otherwise familiar, threatening:
and even the light of the lamp
throws only darkness today.
I think even the flowers
let their leaves hang
and her flowers are closed,
as if they are sulking.
I drink good wine and
taste nothing but liquid,
and soon my eyes will close,
but I can not rest
my thoughts are too loud
in this silence here.
See your smile now,
to hear your voice
and feel you are there.