How Will Evening Come?

[TranquillityBase]

Floorboards in flashbacks pop like 
ice cubes underfoot. 
You pull your robe up against the cold
And stretch your fingers toward the fire. 
How did we get here, after all these years? 

And how will evening come? 

In this cabin where snow aches and presses at the windows 
hungry days stretch cold under the Northern Winter sun.
I ask myself, “How will evening Come?” 

From Spring’s red breast the river spills,
swollen,
stretching to touch your feet.
You lay back, laughing
and I ask myself, 
“How will evening come?” 

The weight of the Summer sky falls heavy on the West wall. 
Throws shadows on the porch. 
Where your children will play. One day. 
On the swing where I sit and watch
the shadows grow longer. 
Darkening the larches across the valley. 

I ask myself, as I often have, “How will evening come?” 
The sunless sky answers. 
There is, for now, silence.
I hold the letter with both hands-  as I often have- . 
sheltering it from the rising wind.

I really enjoy re-reading this one.  The letter introduces mystery at the very end.  I have mixed feelings about that, but also think it is a most powerful ending.  

If there are sections you have doubts about, let me know and I'll see what I think.  Otherwise, nice job 

TqB