the slow walk through shadows

the slow walk through shadows began on a bright day.
a day marked by the cool of morning
and the smell of freshly cut grass
and warm healing heat
but soon the shadows came.
(the advent of chaos
sent from wind)
They would never be the same (these two)
the howling wind
a premonition of fearful charcoal gray
monstrous arrival

This was the beginning for him
and to her, a protracted end.

Something else happened that day.
When tornados echoed like a train with random, careless indescretion.
The long walk
of days and months
through the ruble of lost dreams and long, brutal nights.
For today, so many years later, he learned the horrible diagnosis
in a place where no one goes home.
With emptiness and oblivion, his lover of fifty years spoke stirile and cold to him
as she pulled her hand away from his.

"Who are you?"