I want to write.
I was waiting for the fog to clear,
for my thoughts to be happier.
But sadness weighs more than I thought.
Joy is hiding under a shroud.
I know it is in there,
capable of being,
willing to sporadically show itself.
But the pain of loss is heavy,
I try to tease my joy out of hiding,
keeping only happy memories in my head,
and yet, the sadness skulks.
It has an agenda.
But my resolve is stronger.
My happiness hides in memories.
It lurks in my past,
but seeps into my present.
The holidays loom, like a dark cloud
but we will find joy in new traditions.
Memories will be kept alive,
emotions will bubble under the surface.
She will be there in spirit,
as Angels are during the holidays.
Together again with him,