I was a military wife for 34 years and watched my husband leave many, many times. Having become one on the day we wed, there was no way for him to leave without me, or at least the essence of me. What was left to carry on was less than a whole person.


When You Leave

As I wipe the mirror with cleaner and cloth
I see my reflection
It looks back at me with a hollow stare
And I know I am not whole
I push the vacuum back and forth
It is heavy to move
It rolls over the carpet picking up dirt
And I know I need refreshing
I pull sheets and blankets up on the bed
One side has been slept on
The other side stays neatly made
And I know I need embracing
Missing you is missing myself
I leave each time you do
All that's left is this cold hollow body
Robotically moving through time
My spirit followed you out the door
My heart left also
Leaving the machine to carry on
Until you bring me and you back home.






Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 462 times
Written on 2008-08-26 at 22:41

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Kathy Lockhart
This is what real love looks like, feels like--the emptiness that comes when the other half of you is missing. A beautifully written telling of the great love you have with your husband, Paul. You and He set the standard for me in what to seek out in a relationship and marriage. : ) kathy
2008-08-27