I Gasp
I gasp
Morning is cold.
I outstretch my arm in empty reach.
I gasp.
I listen for the miracle: the shower
door closing behind him.
I gasp.
I wait for my toweled Rodin and
the whistling kettle.
I gasp.
I’m not sure if can get up today.
My breath returns and I robotically rise,
Gasping.
Kathryn M. Collins©
revised Nov. 15, 2013
(would have been our 44th anniversary)
Copyright © Kathryn Collins | Year Posted 2013
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