I read a story written by someone about her husband’s struggle with cancer. Her story touched me so much I decided to write a poem inspired by her experience. Here it is.

Cooking For One

There is nothing worse than staring at your empty plate

one sad egg staring back at you

you used to joke with me about what would happen if you died.

laughing, I’d tell you stories about how I would survive on a diet of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

I take my fork and push the egg to the right side of my plate.

How I would love to make a pork roast, home-made yorkshire pudding and some scalloped potatoes with rosemary and thyme

you’d come home and tell me about your day.

That smile used to crease your face like sunshine.