No more howling into the wind, no more screaming into the night, no more listening for that last word, the last breath, the sanguine reply, no, not without you, I reply. Life goes on, time doesn't stand still, nor does the air during the night's chill. I savor the past, some of it at long last, the sweet smell of roses, the heart when it beats out a rhythm to write into the daylight hours. I savored those moments, that time spent together, and I'll still listen for the chime in the old tower. I always have a goodbye planned, just for an occasion such as this at the end of a story, at the end of a book. The book closes on the last chapter, the last page, the last line...there was the last word I remember. I'll pick up another story, but none so sweet, none so rare, none so deep.