The Great Fear
Every year on our anniversary
we eat lobsters and drink champagne.
We give no presents: we have long
ago and constantly given each
other ourselves. But each mile
stone takes us farther on what
is still a journey into mystery.
We brood more on coming loss
imagine we might die together
but we know it’s unlikely. How
can I live with my heart torn out?
That is the fear at 2 a.m. while
a cold moon looks in at a bed
where I can no longer sleep.
Originally published in Coneflower Cafe, 2022