Like a hurricane.
Or a tornado.
Rip the roof right off your beloved home,
cherished photos and trinkets you’d accumulated,
as with a tragic accident,
Or a car crash.
Then follows the unexpected knock at the door which bursts your heart right through your chest to lie throbbing in your hands before unfamiliar witnesses.
Not cradled comfortably
inside your breast.
Would that have been best?
Better than waiting for his final day of rest?
Day-out for the last gasp. Or final sigh.
Sometimes you horribly wishing they’d just go on and…
Then you chide yourself for your selfishness. You do better. You try to lift their spirits as much as they allow. Plumb their pillow. Stoke their brow while they sometimes scowl.
Jealous for your health. For your future.
Till nothing further is allowed.
Nothing left for you to do,
to wither away also
for your lost.
Inside die slowly too?
Sip a bit of water.
Slips of bread too dry to swallow.
Wishing oneself to death.
Bereft, though deep darkness persists
for you alone.
A sun shines daily while you walk in the shadows
where once it had shown. Hoping no one notices you now alone
where they may have remembered two strolling together
laughing or silent
based upon whether or not’s
like actual weather.
Hand-n-hand like we’d forever belong.
because what you’d feared most
You could not prevent it.
You know that many before you have traveled this horrible road
but it doesn’t console your devastated soul.
Should you blame God?
You try not to be angry. To boldly scold.
You search for your hope.
Yet you shiver. Always cold.
Then Spring comes.
Blossoms bloom as blossoms do.
Life drags on.
Then time arrives to doctor your wounds.
To heal your hurt.
If allowed to enter.