Numbers We Never Called

I never took you, not one time,

To where bingo bells would softly chime.

Where laughter rolled from wall to wall,

And you’d have smiled the brightest of all.

I told myself, “There’s time to spare,”

But time’s a thief that leaves you bare.

Exposed, now you and bingo exists in dream,

A place where I hear your voice softly gleam.

I held your hand, so warm, so true,

As though my touch could anchor you

Your final sigh, so calm, so sure,

The kindest soul I’d ever known pure.

And still I think it twists, it burns

Could gentler ways have slowed those turns?

Those rows of pills, so cold, so still,

I’d trade them all for nature’s will

Yet grief’s a river, deep and wide,

It pulls me under, then lets me ride.

Some days I ache, some nights I smile,

And drift with you for just a while.

I see us playing domino games,

Your quiet win, your gentle fame.

The click of tiles, the knowing glance,

You played each hand as if it danced.

The kitchen steamed in savory light,

Pork chops browned to autumn’s bite

Mac and cheese in golden hue,

Made with love—made just for you.

We sang in homes with steady grace,

Your voice could light the darkest place.

It motivated to be brave be strong

Now your memory is a never ending song

And yes those times, the joint passed round,

Your chuckle low, that magic sound.

Twice you’d hit it, with glossy eyes,

Like you held secrets from the skies.

I never saw a gentler hand,

Or kinder queen of any land.

And though you’ve gone, I still can see

That smile you left inside of me.

In dreams, the hall is warm and bright,

Your chair reserved, your eyes alight.

The caller speaks, the crowd leans in,

You mark the last square, a quiet win.

You rise, triumphant, without a sound,

Your feet don’t even touch the ground.

And I, still seated, start to cry

It's just a dream, but what's real is goodbye.