By Milton P. Ehrlich
A Divine Light Has Gone Out
But still glows, being mischievous as she always was, destined to be a favorite shooting star—a genuine work of art admired by one and all. How comfortable we were, leaning on each other for all those years. I loved her more than anyone else in the world has ever been loved before. I pluck the strings of my lamentations to the tune of “Row, row, row your boat— remembering that life is but a dream.
No Picture of You
Exists capturing the visionary that you were, living a life as if you were in a dream, waiting for the next Pogrom once seen by your parents and older sister. You struggled with an anxiety- driven intelligent energy that motivated you to be bursting with life—all you ever wanted was more life, and more life made you enigmatic in your quest that puzzled others who longed to be accepted by you. I regret not hiring a portrait painter who might have been able to capture how lovable you appeared to be for me.
Death by Proximity
As my wife lay dying, I grabbed her ankle Just before she left, and parked her spirit underneath my skin. Now she keeps me company—though she can’t be seen, heard or touched. But it’s a comfort to know her sense of presence is always with me as I count the long days until I’m sure to wrap my arms around her again for the remainder of eternity.
The Bond
Alone, and then not alone, heat, and then, no heat, here, and then, not here, gone, and then, gone for good, hunger, and then, waiting for food, time, and then, no time like the present to repair a broken heart. I just knew my sanity would be torn asunder, but then, found love, and more love in the universe to fill my gaping wound. Delighted, to be together again, and then, deep sleep, calm and peace.
Milton P. Ehrlich Ph.D. is a 90-year-old psychologist and a veteran of the Korean War. He has published many poems in periodicals such as the London Grip, Arc Poetry Magazine, Descant Literary Magazine, Wisconsin Review, Red Wheelbarrow, Christian Science Monitor, and the New York Times.

powerful poems full of deep feeling…your words made me cry. great writing.
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I absolutely love these poems.
Especially the first one, my wife died six months ago, and I really relate to them.
They say things that I would like to articulate, but haven’t been able to.
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