The First

Poetry

This first year of firsts…
My God, how it hurts
To be without you.
Like getting hit by a bus,

I surrender 
To the impact.
I wonder if
You know that

These days are so hard.
Especially this next one
That honors our union.
It won’t be much fun

To be alone at the beach;
Your favorite place.
Our toes in the sand,
The wind in your face.

Catching glimpses of crabs,
And skates, and pelicans.
You often would joke
‘bout all our shenanigans.

And we would laugh, holding hands
In the sun, on the sand.