Well he’s gone and I gotta tell ya
It seems eerie here alone
I kind of miss his presence
After all, I’m not made of stone
The sound of his voice ramblin’
Isn’t droning in my ear
Subjects that I don’t care about
That he feels he needs to share
I’m kind of missing him, gotta say
Like the sight of summer flowers
But I guess I can’t miss him too much
For he’s been gone for just two hours!
Marilyn Lott
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hunting-widow/
