A Mourning Wife to her Late Husband

By Alivia Dupree

I sit in the living room, across the front door, waiting for you to come home. 

     You always arrive at 4:00, but it is 5:30 now. Where are you?

I know where you are, I haven't forgotten, but I don't let those thoughts enter my mind.

     I call your name for dinner. no response. I sit and eat alone, you must be tired from a long day at work.

Time for bed.

     I crawl into the bed, and reach out my hand for you, but I do not feel you there. You must have gotten up for a drink of water.

I drift to sleep.

     It's morning.

I awake to the sun shining through the shades. I look for you to say good morning, but you are not there. You must be outside, getting the morning paper.

     I sit in the living room, across the front door, waiting for you.

You do not arrive, where are you?

     I know where you are, but no, I refuse to believe it.

I call your name for breakfast. No response. I sit and eat alone. You must be in the bedroom, getting ready for a long day at work.