Empty inbox becomes a ghost,
sits on my back, it’s dead weight an
I become friends with analgesics.
the sound of the word in my mouth
like the aftertaste of his last message
telling me the cancer had spread,
still two paces behind his love for me.
No more chemo. only the sweet relief
The phone rang this morning.
I loved my calm through the call.
They said he did not
‘rage against the dying of the light’.
Graceful till the end.
I move on with my analgesics.
‘For Sale’ signboard
on the gate of the house
shrouded behind walls of snow.