Saturday December 29th, 2007

Saturday December 29th, 2007

One of these days
Driving into Hartford
Is going to get easier,
But it will never grow tired of your memory.
And as the leaves fell,
One at a time and
We drove into winter,
You gave us Christmas,
And held on four days thereafter.
And we held on two hours
At your bedside that morning,
You liked holding hands.
I hated letting go,
And I wondered if you were ready,
Because it wasn't right,
And it wasn't wrong,
It just was.

And we had dinner at your house,
Your sweater was draped over your chair,
No one sat there.
And I spent that Saturday night alone,
In my room,
Trying to drink some sense into everything,
Wanting to see your smile,
Wanting to drive to the hospital
To hold your hand.
But it was over,
And you've left pieces of you in me,
In all of us.
We're experiencing a loss so heavy,
And so deep
Because the elevator ride to the seventh floor
Always got harder.
And I'd surrender to see you light up once more,
Let my whole world become the breath that you breathe,
But you would never let me.