she misses him most
early mornings
and right before dusk

the scent of his pipe
still fills the air
                at times

his chair sits vacant
and she finds herself
staring at it in longing

she still makes the coffee
strong
because that's the way
he liked it
and she can't seem to
break the habit

sweeping the floor
one morning
she finds a worn penny
   1912
smoothed to a bright copper
in color
his lucky charm
   must've fell out of his pocket
   the day they took him away

he was the love of her life
   they had grown old together
had more time than most

but the ache in her heart
and the emptiness of her arms
tells her, that still
was not enough.