Without John
lost in the twilight hours
the twilight years
longing for the past
a closet door opens,
I reach inside
wrap myself in his old sweater
his Aramis scent
still clings to wool
puts me in a trance
and the aged phonograph
still works
as I dance to our song
“Without You” by Nilsson
I can’t live
if living is without you
I can’t give
I can’t give anymore
no, I’ll not forget the evening
his face as he was leaving
for work the night before his stroke
I keep Aramis in the house
to spray my pillows
as I drift off to sleep
without you, my love,
without you
just sounds and scents
that make no sense
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