grief sucks

days, weeks, months
crawl through my emptiness
time is a hollow oak tree
slowly rotting with age

I still see him slouched
in his leather chair
watching Fox News
oxygen tubes dangling

I still hear him wheezing
catching his breath
trying to argue
politics with me

His walker now leans
against the bedroom wall
wheels dormant
carryall empty

His clothes sorted
given to Goodwill
left behind his wool shirt
for me to smell and wear

His ashes are tucked away
inside his dresser cupboard
with his favorite coffee mug
and our 50th anniversary memory book

I keep whispering
I love you
I love you
I love you