The Empty Pillow

All her life 
she slept with one pillow
then she found him 
and the One became Two.

She'd sleep on her tummy 
he'd sleep on his side
sometimes their feet touching 
always their souls intertwined.

He'd snore when in deep sleep
and she'd nag about it 
when they woke 
and to doing so he'd never admit

She'd fall asleep reading
her book resting on the head stand
he'd take it away every night
and kiss her head resting on her little hand.

The pillows piled up
as did the years 
Some were for their heads
others for comforting longings and fears

Then one day he was gone
and in his place 
were shattered memories, 
his lingering cent and an empty space

Now she lies in bed 
consumed by pain
Grief storming through her tired head
like a fright train 
watching an empty pillow.

About the Author
A Libyan American Writer
I'm Grieving, Now What?