she lights a candle

she closes the blinds and lights
a candle and kneels.
she remembers him for
all he was.

the day at the park when he told her
he loved her for the first time.

the ring he bought her as a promise
that when he got back, they would
get married.

the sudden cackle of a laugh he had that
made her happy to be with him, made her happy
that he was only for her.

when they went camping last summer
and made love by a waterfall far off the trail
and were almost caught by a family wandering by.
they hid in the bushes and giggled until they were
alone again.

lying in bed in the morning, watching him sleep as
his eyes fluttered in a dream. and when she touched
his back, he let out a whimper and she kissed his
cheek and stroked his shoulder until he was calm.

the evening when he came home and told her he
was being deployed. he assured her that he would
be safe.
and when he got back, they would marry.

the short calls when he was over there. the tears.
the maddening loneliness. the sleep that refused to
come when all she wanted was to rest.

and when he finally got back on leave and they
ripped away each others clothes and made love
on the floor in the living room and laid there,
holding each other until they drifted off to sleep.

and the morning he went out to buy a few things
from the store with a smile on his face that she
would always remember.

the phone call from the police after hours of waiting
for him to return. the sound in the officer's voice when
he told her. the sound of the phone hitting the floor
when she realized he was never coming home again.

the smell of the candle as she blows it out and sits
in the dark, praying it was all a nightmare. watching
the door, waiting for it to open, hoping to see him
come in smiling.