Last

Have I sufficiently soaked up each moment on its own and in sum?
All too aware. Haunted and distracted by the reality
That lasts only happen when something doesn’t.

That last night we were two before three; we were quiet.
Reciting our love and impatient for her to arrive,
Hoping that the long wait would last no more.

And did she ever arrive? She filled our lives with so much love!
The last monthly news bringing the too-familiar pain of loss
Fading in my memory with no regard, only scars.

And still, I knew our story would have lasts, of course, but long away.
Grey-haired lasts, hopefully. Like the last night
With our daughter before college or marriage.

Sometimes I stifled tears anticipating the last hug we’d have
Long away while we held each other as our bodies failed.
And we’d look deeply at one another and remember.

So suddenly, that future is gone. Once so far away, now months ago.
Do you remember the last time we shared a bed or held each other?
Can you remember the feel of my lips — my touch?

As the sun sets, what hope should I hold?
For new beginnings of new stories and new futures — the pain of new lasts?
What’s next is as unclear as the memories for which I grasp.

They already fade. When was the last time we lost our breath laughing?
It tears at my soul! The longing pulls my mind into the past, searching
For that connection we had — for the warmth.

I wish I could find it all in my mind and replay it endlessly.
Will my tears and sleepless nights bring it back?
How long will this misery and loneliness last? I hope; not long.