Title: a dirge by candlelight

Written: early March 2010


I burnt your letter today,

promises that won't come true,

lies about what me and you could've been.

Your son turned three a week ago

and you weren't here to know.

He asks about you sometimes,

about your height and your eyes.

I tell him you were six foot four

and were always laughing.

o0o

I burnt your letter today,

while this little man you gave me played.

I know why you never came home,

but I still hurt and I still cry

whenever Janine complains about her Rob

or Maggie and Neal neck on our couch.

I've asked them not to do that but they forget;

It's been three years after all.

A lifetime for someone

who was barely a heartbeat when you left.

o0o

I burnt your letter today.

I miss you when it rains.

Our boy doesn't like avocados.

Mama says with time it gets easier

and Daddy tells me the new mechanic is a nice man.

Janine offers to set me up every day,

but I'm not ready.

I don't know if I'll ever be ready.

o0o

I burnt your letter today,

promises that won't come true,

lies about what me and you could have been.

Your son turned three a week ago

and I hope, wherever you are, that you know.

I hope he grows as tall as you—

I know he has your eyes.

o0o

I burnt your letter today.

I miss you when it rains.

I miss you when I'm cooking

and you don't offer to help.

You never could read a recipe or follow directions

but you always tried.

I loved you for that.

I love you for that.

Your son is my little helper;

he's always in the kitchen.

He helped me bake his cake.

o0o

I burnt your letter today.

Here, I scatter the ashes on your grave.

Let them find you, wherever you are.

I'm not ready to move on;

I don't know if I can forgive you,

but I'll try every day.

I'll try for our boy

and I'll tell him the truth one day.

o0o

I burnt your letter today.

It's been three years.

I hope you're happy.

I'll do my best.

I miss you when I dance with our son in the rain .