I promised a letter a day but that promise has faded away
Into days of barely making it through to crash at their ends.
My February has not felt like February, my January not like January.
The months meld into a homogenous block of TIME,
And I have become entombed in that coffinous TIME.
Buried under the Duty of an enforced patriotic life
I stand not for my country tis of thee but for the love of you and me.
Do not doubt that love sustains me despite my lamentations previously.
I just haven’t had enough coffee today to be a deployed soldier’s wife.
I am haunted by the months ahead I’ve yet to field alone but not alone.
And neither are you.