Common sense and calendars insist
that this world turns through dark and light
with every second same,
and yet, for me,
the moment's still
a heartbeat past
a heartbeat gone,
and I, who once was whole,
am half: alone.
My darling, since we laid your body down,
I've ached to come upon
my turn to come,
though morning sun
brought me,
both miracle and mercy,
your kissing within me;

Angelina, when I feel you smile,
I wake from dreams of never being whole,
and know where heaven waits -
where I will give again to you
as you still turn from death
to give to me.

Please, God, for Angelina, give me grace
to be like God
when God's away from home.

John Libertus

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/common-sense-and-calendars-insist/