Poem by Ann Christine Tabaka
It bothered him
That I talked to myself.
He would smile and shake his head.
Too many years alone
in an empty house,
made habits hard to break.
Who was I to talk to, talk with,
when he was gone all day?
Maybe if he would have only listened
when he was close at hand.
Maybe I wouldn’t have to
talk silently within.
About the Poet
Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from numerous publications. She is the author of 9 poetry books. Christine lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her most recent credits are: Burningword Literary Journal; Ethos Literary Journal, North of Oxford, Pomona Valley Review, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Pangolin Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, The McKinley Review, Fourth & Sycamore.
Vita Brevis Press. 
Excellent work — establishes lucidly an inescapable rhythm that is very easy on the ear.
Lovely poem! So sad, too!