Morning broke gently,
    soft air,
    a sky clear enough

    to hold all the promises
    spring likes to whisper.

I’m sitting here alone,
    watching the world wake up,
    feeling the warmth,
            the brightness,
            the ache of a day

    that deserves better than solitude.

Coffee in hand,
   chair empty beside me,

   quiet filled with all the things we didn’t get to say.

I could describe the sky,
  but it wouldn’t matter.

I could paint the air in words—
    the scent,
    the softness,
    the slow hum of renewal—

    but it still wouldn’t be enough.

Because mornings like this weren’t meant for distance.

They were meant
     for eyes meeting over coffee,
     for shared breath,
     for quiet moments,

     spent doing nothing… together.

And as lovely as this day is,
    as perfect,
    as new—

    it’s incomplete.

Beautiful, yes,
    but without you here—
    just another morning passing quietly by,

    waiting…

    for the next Sunrise,
        the next breath of Spring—

    for the next moment when it's not just me beneath this sky.