The day after you died
I ate nothing–
The world, my world, every inch of it
Had shifted subtly, irrevocably one half inch to the right
It looked the same, but forever changed–
All day, distracted by an almost-sound,
almost within my hearing,
By an almost-glimpse of something just out of sight

The very first time since my very first breath
In a world without you alive in it.
I burned a white candle, offered the water,
Bade you move on beyond
A strange and new place in which I live
A half-orphan forever.