I’ll miss him in the early light,
When dawn slips softly through the blinds.
The bed will hold his shape just right—
A memory the morning finds.
My hand will reach without intent,
To touch the warmth that once he lent.
I’ll miss the way he said my name,
Like it was something made of stars.
The way he looked at me — no game,
Just love that healed all quiet scars.
He never had to speak it loud,
His silence always made me proud.
I’ll miss the laughter in the air,
The way we danced through daily things.
His thoughts, his jokes, the way he cared—
The peace his simple presence brings.
We made a home in little ways,
In shared routines, in lazy days.
The garden will remember him,
The way he’d run, then let me win.
His shadow in the roses’ rim,
His echo in the gentle wind.
And I’ll still chase him in my mind,
In moments I’m not sure I’ll find.
I’ll miss him most when day grows thin,
When twilight hums and time slows down.
When quiet settles deep within,
And all the world feels hushed and brown.
The couch will feel too wide, too bare—
The silence loud with all we were.
I’ll miss him when I try to sleep,
And trace the dreams he used to be.
The space beside me will still keep
The shape of love, the shape of we.
And though I’ll learn to move, to stand,
A part of me will hold his hand.
Yes, I’ll miss him—deep and true,
In ways I cannot quite explain.
For love like ours does not undo,
It lingers sweet, and haunts like rain.
He’s gone, but still, he's part of me—
A song, a scent, a memory.
©gj30
G