I was alone in the house
the other day,
when I heard your voice
down the hall.
I could swear it was you.
I had to be.
I didn't just hear you,
I felt you.
I walked the hall,
looking for you.
I knew you weren't there,
not anymore.
You hadn't been there
in a long time.
Your voice was a ghost,
just like you.
I opened that old door
down the hall again.
Our old bedroom,
so long unused now.
I looked at your pillow,
where you'd lay your head.
I had your favorite quilt
spread across for us.
I closed my eyes and inhaled
the scents of our room.
Your spays and your oils,
and your brush was still there.
I imagined watching you
dress for your night out.
That last night when you
wore the ring I just gave you.
I can't sleep in this room anymore,
but I keep it clean and fresh.
I've packed your things away,
except your dressing things.
And, of course, your ring,
is still there in its box.
I don't look at it these days,
not like I used to.
One last look and I close the door
on our old sanctum.
This was where I could touch
you all day, any day.
I think we'll meet again,
one day when it's time.
I'll hear your voice again,
and I'll know you're there with me.
I walked back to my room
and lay in my bed.
The window was open
and a light breeze blew in.
A gentle kiss on my cheek,
that I imagined was from you.
I so miss you, my love,
and I still wait to hold you forever.
