The Chore

As I wander through our house
I continuously say goodbyes,
because of sleep that I resist
but finally closes my eyes.

I review our things collected,
our life in all its glory.
The love we built and cherished
is every item's story.

The clock announces lateness
with each and every chime.
Sleep will finally come,
no matter how I fight the time.

Our bed does not beckon,
but my body says no more.
So I finally succumb
and set out to this chore.

The pillow right beside me,
that replaced you in our bed,
is not of any comfort.
It's lifeless; cold and dead.

I slowly drift away,
much to my disdain.
Tomorrow's dawn is coming
and it will all begin again.


Good Night my sweet Beth. I miss you so much.

All my love, Pappy