I wake each morn and reach for you
Habit your death cannot control
The days they past as days will do
But it’s still night within my soul
It sears to realize how much
Our spirits were so intertwined
And now bereft of half of such
I’ve no clue what’s been redefined
Waiting to see on the morrow
Will El Sol keep my company
Needing out of this deep sorrow
That holds tight the darkness in me
In solitary soliloquy
I look for lucidity
National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 23 finds me trying my hand at a Pushkin Sonnet
The Pushkin Sonnet has fourteen lines, with no set meter. The rhyme scheme is divided into one of the two following stanza formats:
abab ccdd effe gg or abab ccdd eff egg
Raivenne-lations 
You’ve taken this close, intimate thing – this grief, and you’ve brought such beauty to it with this form. The phrases that will stick with me? “bereft of half of such,” “this deep sorrow /
That holds tight the darkness in me.” Painful, and yet gorgeous.
Thank you, Laninie.