Making Room
©2019 Susan Noyes Anderson
Your room still holds the scent of you;
sometimes, I venture in.
One step across the threshold, and
the memories begin.
I see you lying on the bed
or sitting in the chair.
How many times did I pass by
and find you resting there?
The walls and shelves guard high school joys
and college dreams and more.
I never know if smiles or tears
await me at your door.
But either way, I walk inside;
my heart just can’t resist.
For when I do, I’m telling you
how very much you’re missed.
I feel you most inside that room,
rich shades of grief and bliss.
∞§∞
“They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.”
―
Find more of my poems about death, loss and grieving here.
Tags: child loss, death, grief, memories, mourning, remembering our dead
