two chairs

Grey-blue waters lap cold against the snow-covered shore, and  white flakes brush the seam away from the horizon. I cannot say where the sea ends and the sky begins.

Snow swirls down on the island through the evergreens. Fragrant smoke curls up and out of a chimney, whisked away to an ethereal dance floor. It’s beautiful and perfect except for the two empty chairs sitting side by side on the hillside.  They remind me that somewhere beyond the obscured horizon is the sliver of mainland…

And you.