She Has Defined Me
She has defined me;
As I pick up branches in the back yard,
look over to the patio furniture and imagine her
sitting there, happy with me alone,
I realize why there is no pattern to follow anymore.
Without her, everything has to be connected to something new.
The children and I have been introduced, but
we don't yet know each other
as well as we knew
those people she loved.
This is grief
to be a stranger in the life you made with her.
Poem © 2001 David Watkins, all rights reserved
appears here by permission