" If I could cut out my beating heart
and put it in a box
and forget about it,
I would.
Maybe I would pad the box with our photos of you,
our love letters, a lock of your hair and that heart-shaped perfume bottle,
the one that I gave you for your birthday.
You always said it was your favorite.
Maybe if I put the box up in the attic,
some place out of sight and sound,
I could forget you.

(sigh)

I force myself to look around my yard.
The sun is brilliant against the bright blue sky,
birds are singing out their borders
and gathering twigs and grasses for nesting,
and the late-season daffodils
are bursting an egg-yolk yellow.
I feel myself smile.

For the first time this season,
I spot a Peace rose,
a sunshine-swelled bloom of yellow and pink flame.
I inhale the bloom's faintly sweet fragrance,
which floats delicate memories of you
across my mind's eye — I am happy.

Without thinking, I turn to the house
to call you.

If only It was that easy. "

― Jeffrey A. White