Missing My Wife

Missing my wife Thinking of my wife makes me more alone. Time flows before me; moments becoming eternities. I love her. Her beauty fills my dreams; so pleasant a vision. She is my reality. She sits beside me. We sing from one memory. I am like a child wandering beyond my boundaries. The simple lack of her presence forces me to ponder existence; poetry brings her no closer. I am all suddenly old; my mind addled with her remembrance that does so tease me. I take my heavy body, my heavy heart to bed. My pillow, a sad substitute for hugging. We cry.