what i miss

sometimes I miss her cooking.
the smell of it,
the table full of plates.
the oven going, pots
boiling on the stove.
I miss that about her,
especially when i'm hungry
and settling
on a peanut butter sandwich
for dinner.
i miss another thing about her
too, which was almost
as as good as her cooking.
sometimes i think about
that when i'm walking the dog,
or staring at the clouds,
or lying
in the great empty space
of my bed ready for sleep.
but that's it, that's truly
all i miss about her,
the rest gave me a headache,
and so it goes.