You being gone is difficult every day, but most challenging on holidays. When others are celebrating as couples and families, I only want to be alone. That we had such great times throws memory like salt into an unhealed wound. Oh, how I miss you my darling. S.L.

Taken from “The Loss of Love” by Countee Cullen
All through an empty place I go,
And find her not in any room;
The candles and the lamps I light
Go down before a wind of gloom.
Thick-spraddled lies the dust about,
A fit, sad place to write her name
Or draw her face the way she looked
That legendary night she came.