Where You Still Are

My husband, the world keeps moving
As if nothing has changed at all,
But inside these quiet rooms
Your absence echoes through each wall.

Your shoes are still beside the door,
Your jacket hangs where you once stood,
Ordinary things now sacred
Proof that once, we were understood.

I miss the steady of your presence,
The way your hand would find mine first,
The calm you carried into storms,
The way you softened every hurt.

Grief arrives in simple moments
A song, a scent, an empty chair,
And suddenly the air grows heavy
With the shape of you not there.

But love does not surrender
To the silence death has made;
It lives within my breathing,
In memories that do not fade.

My husband, though I walk alone,
I carry what we built together
For even loss cannot undo
A bond that outlives forever.