This poem was published in an anthology titled On Our Own, Widowhood for Smarties from Silver Boomer Books in 2012.
The Year of Firsts
Shirley endured her year of firsts without him.
First Thanksgiving, first Christmas,
first New Year’s (his favorite
with cabbage for luck and all that).
First Valentine’s was sad; he was such
a romantic. And just when she thought
she’d given up on happiness, the first spring came
with first robins, then first summer
followed. Wasn’t that a hummingbird?
First grandbaby is due in December.
And tonight, her first date, well, just dinner really
but she’s as nervous as she was for her first prom.
poet james escher 