©2020 Susan Noyes Anderson

I’m in a battle for myself,
and I’m afraid to lose.
Life used to feel more solid,
like I had a right to choose

©2020 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Patrick Perkins on Unsplash

This is the why poem,
The why-did-you-die poem,
The why-did-you-have-to-be-
stuck-in-the-eye poem,

©2020 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash

You died a man, yet in my heart,
you were my baby from the start…
my little blond-haired, blue-eyed boy…
solemn of thought, alive with joy.

©2020 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Julia Caesar on Unsplash

My heart searches relentlessly
to find you in each day.
I close my eyes and reach for you
in spirit, far away.

©2020 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Artem Kovalev on Unsplash

The world has moved beneath my feet,
but I can still touch ground,
more apt to lose my footing, but
more grateful when it’s found.

©2020 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Olga Tutunaru on Unsplash

I am the unwieldy book
you would rather not read
that opened up well but then
took a late turn for the worse.
And now, duty bound, you cannot
simply put me down firmly.
Compelled, you must finish your start,
every chapter and verse.

©2020 Susan Noyes Anderson

Sculpture: Melancolie, by Albert Gyorgy

A new level of missing you
has settled on my heart.
Year two, and I am still undone
by living life apart.

©2019 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Richard Bell on Unsplash

The wonder of Christmas has always been mine.
It was given to me as a child.
Mother told me the tale of that first holy night,
and Christ’s light filled her eyes as she smiled.