HE IS GONE
the day we opened our scrolls,
looked into each others eyes,
and read our vows;
recalled campfires, games, a thieving squirrel,
sharing experiences together
in peaceful campgrounds, scenic surroundings;
remembered you lifting me
across the threshold of our first house,
laughed recalling the baby skunk experience,
smiled as I pictured the first time
we met our son and you tenderly
touched his hand and held mine.
Moments and memories flashed by,
a movie scrolling through my mind,
filled with joy, laughter, love.
I mourn that this
is all I have left.
There will be no more
pleasurable memories added
to this incomplete film.
I move down the stairs,
turn the corner,
amble behind the recliner
and glance down at you.
This illness seized you,