Poetry / Lilly

I called out to her one day.
It was unintentional,
habit,
but for the split second
her name rest on my tongue’s tip,
like an ember
plunging deep to my stomach’s core,
I truly believed
she would once again
run down the hall
to greet me.

In a moment
the realization of such mistake
thumped low in my chest,
for no one was here
not anyone,

Just me.

Standing forlorn in
the heavy frame of a
door—
An entryway lasting far longer
than she did.

Leaving me alone,
only to imagine
what that damned carpenter
thought he was doing,
fashioning a doorframe
that lasts longer
than a daughter.

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