“Edith Black” By Emily Austin

I felt my wife's hand grace my shoulder.
I brought my hand to hers, held it and I told her
“I love you Edith Black”
But she doesn't say it back.

I heard my wife humming through our old crickety house.
I got up and I told my beautiful darling spouse
“I love you Edith Black”
But she doesn't say it back.

I smell my wife making coffee at about half past one.
I follow the scent and I tell my dear sweet hon
“I love you Edith Black”
But she doesn't say it back.

I remember the olden days.
I remember when she used to say
“I love you Alan Black.”
And I'd always say it back.

I can no longer take her hand in mine
Or see her smile of bright sunshine
But only in my head
For my darling Edith Black
is dead.

If I could change one simple thing
I'd bring her back so she could sing.
Or just so I could say
“I love you Edith Black”
And have her say it back.