The Day After

I get the sense when I talk to people every now and then or they get in touch with me after a while and ask how I am…that time is passing…though for me it is not.  I imagine that for them, much has passed since the news of your death, your funeral, their return to life.  They have had a summer, go to jobs, care for children, make plans.

Each day for me
it is the day
after I buried you.

Each day is
a long continuous day
with the brief interruption of

Each day
i will beg time to take
me a little bit further
from the pain of discovering
a world without you.

But then each day
it’s the same.

1 thought on “The Day After”

  1. once you lose the love of your life this is how days are counted. everything starts to be days and months from the last time you saw their face…. felt their heat… heard their voice. you cannot think in any other terms of measurement. that is how we measure time now. and it's painful. but, i understand.

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