5 Months

Today is five months since we lost you.

It feels so short

And so long.

Next month they say we should be better.

We may get better at this new life,

And appear to move on as we garden, work and plan,

But death is not fixable.

Death is an ever-present partner carried at the chest,

Wondering who will be next,

And if I will be ready for more ghosts.

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