I will sew two jackets on my list of things to sew
and figure out what to make with the fabric I have
stacked in my sewing room, like offerings.
For November I will make the booties promised for a new baby’s arrival
I will finish one sweater and/or start a new one.
I may go to the gym.
I will pass through an invisible threshold and into a new decade and
I will never forget you, the other side of my soul,
and never celebrate a birthday with out remembering that your curls into mine like a wave –
And then we would begin the count down to Christmas, a gleeful whirling dervish dance of anticipation,
Then new years day and then the day after
when it all ended on the bumper of some strangers car.
In November, know that I still carry your voice in my heart’s rhythm, in the lymph and blood of my body
in each breath that I draw in every chamber in my thoughts you still live,
although with every passing year it is longer that you’re dead
and I abide, expecting the next wave,
here without you.