ONE MORE YEAR, ONE YEAR LESS

Without you I am sentenced

to myself.

The house we chose

together has a past that’s always

present: Waterford glasses

you treasured, sunflowers

you brought from Cannes and vased,

the sculpture Starchev gave you

after you praised it.

They help me

feel you’re near.

In photographs

you smile as my bride, my wife

and our son’s mother posing

with his family on our fiftieth.

Never forced or false, your smile

was everywhere and always

you.

Each day for more

than sixty years that smile

saved me.

And saves me still.

Download PDF