Celia sat up in bed
And wondered where
George had gone.
He’d been there
Just a while before
She closed her eyes,
Drifted off,
Heard the door,
Opened her eyes
But he wasn’t there
Beside her
In bed anymore;
The indentation
In the pillow
Showed his place,
His aftershave
Still lingered
On the air;
But he wasn’t there,
Just emptiness;
A vacant space;
A remembered voice;
But the face was vague,
The features fled,
He’d been gone
For years,
Long since dead.
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