Anne Patrice

When I awoke this morning
I didn’t think of you.
For weeks I’ve wakened to your name
Today felt different, not the quite same

The awful shock was easing
Like it was supposed to do
The hollow space
With your dear face
Was slowly fading too.

I understand that grief has stages
Not sure which one I’m in
But today I had a chuckle
A sweet ‘remember when.’
A good old joke so often shared
Floated briefly in the air.

I think I feel your spirit if indeed there’s such a thing
I miss everything about you
You were my sturdy wing.