Cleft In Two Poem by Charl JF Cilliers

The pine tree has grown scraggly: dry
denuded branches, oozing bark; and I
stand silently and listen to the thin wind cry.

In the grass I hear your rustling footsteps when you left
and feel again what I felt then: bereft
at how suddenly my tranquil life was cleft

in two. And hope flies up each time I hear
that rustling in the grass, wind in the tree:
Could it be your footsteps drawing near?
Or merely the sounds of you again
and again not coming back to me?