Moving On

We had planned to visit Italy together

But plans often go awry

We didn’t plan for cancer to take you

Gone at such a young age

All of our dreams crashed into nothing

I made it to Italy

Thought I could escape

Your memory

But the future we never shared

Haunts me here too

I rented a quaint place

A shop below

Where I sell our things

Above it a small apartment

Where I imagine you might fly in on wings

One bicycle rests outside

Remember we had planned

To cycle the cobbled streets

But now there’s only one cycle not two

And oh how I miss you

E.A. Fussell



This morning

As I picked up

One of my favorite things

A latte made with heavy cream

The barista asked me

“What’s on your agenda today?”

“Not-a-lot”, I replied

“And Sunday is my favorite day

To do not-a-lot”



Is it really necessary


Numerous people

Have felt compelled

To tell me to “ Breathe”

Which is a way of saying

“Slow down” or “calm down”

“it’ll all be okay”

In my construction life

I am not a calm person

Wide open is my speed

I don’t know how to slow down

And just breathe

Who has time for

Deep intakes of air anyway

All I need

Are short gasps of pure oxygen

Just enough to get me thru

To the next task at hand

Perhaps occasionally exhaled

In colorful expletives

I will retire one day

That’s when I will slow down

That’s when I will breathe

Until then

I choose to run wide open

Trying to curtail my exhales

From turning into F-bombs

While knowing that each day

I maxed out my energy

With the effort I gave

E.A. Fussell