The awkwardness of going from lover
to friend taints
every conversation

Their gestures and movements
hint at grief and quiet
desperation

The openness and closeness,
once abundant and fruitful,
has withered on the vine

Lives shared, joined by plan
have taken solitary roads,
off the main line

Questions are carefully phrased
to avoid answers that cut
bruised hearts

Discussions of their children
though friendly, falter with
fits and starts

Odd moments catch tears in her eyes
from his, glints of sadness
still persist

But they carry on, masks in place
to the world that
now exists

The storm that swept through them
has dissipated, disappeared
leaving only its debris

The cleanup and recovery
will take months, years
with no guarantee.