The fear has not been addressed,
nor has the idea of the vacuum 
that she will leave.
It is nice to sit here quietly,
watching some of the afternoon
slip past us and into something else entirely.

I watch her as she gets up,
and listen as she disappears 
down the hallway. 
There is just a sound and some cold 
as she opens the door.

There was never the idea that she
would stay.
There were questions about the plan, 
but the result was always the same.

In time we will forget all this.
I will find new things to occupy my time.
I will miss her, of course, every time
there is a winter day like this one.

I will recognize something of hers
in every empty room of this house.