Day 12

I am a-
1001 jigsaw puzzle with 999 pieces;
A gift receipt
A photo frame without glass
A drawer that's lost it's slider
A book without a cover
A mushy middle pancake
A too-short, too-long ponytail holder
And a three hole punch with only two punches-

Without you I am Serviceable,
but not Fully
functional.

Day 11

An empty vase,
An unruffled pillow,
Cheese, uneaten in the fridge.
Tidy shoes,
Clean, not day-old-lunch-smelly tupperware-
All speak to me in tones of loneliness.

Day 9

Somehow everything got away from me-
heaps of laundry,
unread library books,
unopened mail,
dishes helter-skelter in the sink.

The insecure part of me asks,
Did you get away from me too?

Day 5

Exhaustion waves across the sands of my body
And I fall into an empty desert bed.

Day 4

Even the trees
with their scratchy Long-fingered limbs--
blowing, blowing, blowing against a smoke-cloud sky
Are reaching out for You
As the wind sopranos a song of Longing.

Day 3

Today I scoured the house
And I did NOT find the eensy weensy bear puzzle piece from the library--
I found You-
Your old slippers, trusty, ugly and brown
A bike light waiting to show you the way
Dusty,under-the-fridge forgotten race cars-- I think you let Kenzie's car beat yours.
Popcorn under the couch,
The remote you were sure I'd lost forever;
Sticky notes with inscrutable diagrams and equations.

A place for everything and everything in it's place- (except that dumb bear
And you.)

Day 2

I will try my Hand
at Supermom-dom.

We stay in our pajamas
And Bake sugar cookies.
Hannah streaks from the kitchen
Her escapee sticky frosting fingers
folding cleanliness away, while Kenzie
licks her fingers and waves them patiently to get my attention.

At dinner, I wonder if you will return to find that
toes on the table is an acceptable habit.

Day 1

I almost cried as your lips
Gathered mine-
Imagining I'd never see you again.
Two weeks is not never, I brusquely told myself
And then sang Peter Pan songs to the girls as we drove away.