For Harley

For now, I don't want to talk about it, but this is for Harley. He will be sorely missed.

They tell me that you went quickly...
Is that supposed to bring me comfort?
Still, you went, never again to grace
My eyes, ears, or touch with you.

I already miss your infectious laugh,
Your peculiar way with words,
And the way you always kept me in line...
How will I last the rest of a lifetime?

You’ll never know my loved ones—
More than anything, that knowledge hurts.
My children, my mate, my grandkids...
They’ll never know that man whom I love.

Where do we go from here?
How do we amend these thoughts and feelings?
How do we replace what he means to us?
The simple answer: we don’t.

—C.R.E.