November 8, 2025

I resist moving forward into this next year, without you.

I long to go backwards.

I want to hold on, not let go.

Memories sustain me

in the sleepless early morning hours

and the long drives alone.

I fear the day soon to come

when my memories from last year

will be memories that you are not in.

A new year full of promise.

Opportunities to find a new purpose,

venture out, learn to be on my own.

I can touch the beckoning wind,

but still, I resist.

That future hurts.

Like the empty spot in the bed next to me

and the quiet house in the morning

when I drag myself out of bed.

Some days when the sun warms my face,

the puffy white clouds hanging over the sparkling pond

fill me with hope.

Birdsong charms me.

Good friends and my beautiful family

remind me that I am loved and valued.

Holding me without pushing me forward.

Standing by my side,

Ready with a hand up, when I am.

Helen Matusow-Ayres  11/25

Uncompanioned

I.

Somewhere deep within, under my skin

beneath my faltering smile

is you.

Your heart,

not stopped

beating with my heart

adjusting its rhythm

spreading warmth and light.

Hands touch, thoughts unspoken

we walk together

and apart.

Fingers tingle,

sweet memories linger.

Searing pain pulls me under.

I am letting go while still being held.

II.

Your slippers sit

waiting for the warmth of your feet.

Like my cold, empty hand

as I walk along a well traveled path.

Your water bottle

stays half- full.

Empty clothes hang in the closet

still holding your shape.

Spaces you have left empty.

III.

I am alone

unmoored.

Floating through each day,

imagining your loving arms

welcoming me home.

Helen Matusow-Ayres

January 2025