Payments

In memory of my husband Dr. Stanley Schuman

The days pass-

rosary beads

slipping through my fingers

one by one by one.

Outside my window,

seasons too slip by

in steady sequence,

one full cycle

and most of another.

I am nearly two years older

than when you left.

Death claimed you

you didn’t want to go.

Sitting in silence

I feel the smooth oval

of each small coffee-colored bead.

Even now,

I still cannot yet complete

the cycle of

the sorrowful mysteries.