He’s gone
now, this man we loved.
Do you
remember the night
We three
climbed into your big bed,
Weaving arms
and legs into a tangle
Of love
while the children slept
In bedrooms
down the hall?
The next
morning he made coffee, pleased,
Oblivious to
our enjoined discomfort.
I left words
trapped in the blanket jumble
On your bed
and drove back to Missoula.
We moved
apart in various ways,
You to
Helena, he to the Lake,
Me to
Seattle. Long distance
Is not the
next best thing to being there.
Now he’s
gone the longest distance.
How many
years since our brown eyes locked?
Didn’t you
know I loved you best?
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