Posted by: carolyn / through a widow's eyes | November 5, 2010

i am sure

i am sure

life would be better

if i could sleep
more than two hours
at a stretch.
if i did not fall asleep
every single night
light on
book in hand
glasses perched on face
heating pad for company
and Letterman in the room with me,
gap-toothed grin
so like J’s,
and then wake up
every night
for years now
always at three
— the hour he left us —
regardless of
what hour i retire,
what pill i take,
(or what we forsake).
tv still on
celebrity poker now
all those comforts
no comfort at all.
i wander the house
in the darkest hour of night
staring out blackened windows
onto wet pavement,
wind-whipped leaves.
there is still
a big hole
in the bed.


  1. Make sure you keep half an eye on that hole, don’t sink into it, friend. If you do, I’ll reach down my arm, and you’ll remember all the grips you’ve learned, yes?




  2. Y’all wids are the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you. All friends matter, but ones who know, who get it, and who aren’t wondering why it is taking so long are ESSENTIAL now.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: