going to live,
despite
days I thought I could not
days I thought I should not
days I thought I would not
never wanted to
work this out for myself
no rule book
no choice
die, cry, dry, lie, try
back of your throat
behind your eyes
you can’t breathe
tears catch fire
what would she want?
I loved her
I know she loved me
deep in her eyes
to be happy?
mustn’t forget the children
more pain than they show
not hoard my hurt
people called I didn’t expect
people I didn’t know
from unexpected places
became people I needed
something of her left
in me, bereft
something to cherish
like a plant
only tears to tie back together
my heart
somehow the seams
hold, must hold, despite
Perry L. Powell is a poet, author, and widower who finds it all too easy to stay at home alone with his terrier, cat, ghosts, and memories.