There is a soft mist in my eyes today
that blurs my vision but not her image.
She is somewhere near though far away-
talking in my thoughts quoting her adage.
Come weekend, and my phone would promptly buzz-
her Friday-call for our ritual dinner.
What would I like to eat ? - she would ask and fuss,
then wait for me with ado and eager.
But now she is gone, and I sit and wait-
her absence so abrupt with least fanfare.
I ask her - couldn’t you have left little late? -
But the time comes soon though appears unfair.
I miss her laughter and spiced-up gossips.
She smiles from beyond as the red sun dips.
