Ritual

difficulty letting go

The alarm blares..
I reach for the snooze.
Smiling, I turn to snuggle
next to you,
eyes closed, I stretch my arms
across the bed and feel only sheets.
Bewildered, I peep through lids half veiled
and I see your side of the bed—
empty and unruffled.
Oh, I remember now!
You're not here.
You haven't been here for twenty years.
Taken in our youth by tragedy.
Yes, I feel it now—
The futility of letting go.
That makes this ritual a necessity.
Each morning I smile in anticipation…
Repeating the steps of that last day.
Hoping when I reach across this time
I'll feel your warm skin.
Yet it forever ends with tears
and regret.