In This House


In this house, in these rooms, there’s so much of you

A wooden bottle you once honed, with a note inside for me

A copper rose made with your hands, and hanging from a tripod a wooden ornament for our Paris Christmas tree
A pair of reading glasses in every room, along with at least one pair of your scuffed shoes
An hourglass from our wedding day teeming with shifting sands
of every treasured memory created with love by you and me
But should you have to go my dear and leave me all alone,
I’ll wander every tainted room, lamenting that you’re gone
and yearn to hear your voice again calling from afar
in sync with the distinct melody of our lifelong song
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

Author’s Note: Photo is of the copper rose my Big Viking made for me for our wedding anniversary this year. It’s home is the desk where I write, along with my other treasures.
As we grow older, I find myself thinking on these things, if one of us should die before the other. I believe we sometimes have to visit those scary thoughts and confront them. I know it makes me appreciate our present life together all the more.

10 Comments on “In This House

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