Lights 
hang around the trees and halls, 
and the days are slowly growing shorter. 
Shades 
of familiar recollection 
and the smell of evergreen. 
But a foreign ache creeps in. 

There’s an empty chair where she used to be, 
now all that’s left is a memory easing my sleep. 
The warmth of the fire can only thaw the skin, 
there’s a bitter frost persisting as the tears trickle in. 

If some things never change, why can’t this be one? 
It’s just not the same with her gone. 

Odd 
how the branches hold the weight 
of childhood glued on paper plates. 
We 
took for granted the last year 
before he health was gone. 
And the bedside visit was all. 

There’s an empty chair where she used to be, 
now all that’s left is a memory easing my sleep. 
The warmth of the fire can only thaw the skin, 
there’s a bitter frost persisting as the tears trickle in. 

If some things never change, why can’t this be one? 
It’s just not the same with her gone. 

To hurt is to have 
loved in a lasting way. 
Death won’t last forever, 
but it stings for a day. 
The first year without her, 
though it may sound odd to some, 
was easier because I knew 
she was at your throne. 

You know what it’s like 
to lose the one you love. 
In my moments of isolation 
I’m never alone. 
When the lamb returns 
for the glory set before Him, 
He’ll wipe away every tear 
from our eyes. 

If some things never change, I’m glad your love is one. 
You’ll be with us then, when she’s home.