Enough already (©2015 John T. Windle)

No more mornings with you
Rock, paper, scissors for the trash.
No more "tea's in the pot".
Can't tell you on my wrist there's a rash.

No more lunchtimes with you.
Cross words obscuring your news.
Munching shared across the cloth;
covering those stains and old clues.

No more golden afternoons.
Words of comfort just amplify the space.
How many, many more moons
will I blink and not see that face?

Evenings are empty without you.
Friends cannot distract me from the fog;
stretching beyond the clouds,
Slow autumn of the sun on the logs.

    I know that you wanted me to carry on,
    to soldier along,
    but at the end of the days I am

entering the night unwiping tears.
Sweet, silent relief in the hay.
Please, please, please no more years.
I don't need to wake another day,
shake another day.