Into memory’s doors, I do cautiously and slowly tread,
Dressed in black the family glides dazed around me,
A video is showing happier times of their family tree.

Stunning is the woman weeping and whispering,
Tender words to a quiet, listless man lying down.
Tissues quietly muffle her sorrow and her sound.

I speak to strangers who I know will forget this hazy time,
Introductions, then a puzzling script from where I stand,
I hear her cries of love and onto her shoulder, I put my hand.

For centuries the same words, I hear them as they come,
So sorry for your loss, gently I hug her while I softly say,
A blank stare is looking back at me, her love has gone away.

Sorrow is her dress and panic has no shield to hold her,
Enveloped in dread, for his smile she knows she will miss,
Silent now in reflection, as she longs for one last kiss.

Closing the top, his face now gone, torn now from her touch,
A cold spot in their bed, in their home a solemn, empty place
He’s in heaven now, she mutters, for he believed in God’s grace!

She spins, and dances in her sorrow, she only wants to sleep,
These people here don’t understand her loss, her woeful fear,
She has to wait until God calls for her, she hopes her time is near.


Taken by Joni Olympus E-520 – Kirkland, WA

2 thoughts on “Loss

  1. Thank you friend. I am grateful for your comment. Yes, every funeral reminds me of the death of each of my parents and their funerals. Dazed and hazy more like a dream. Nothing seems real. Thank you for visiting and for your kind comment.

    Liked by 1 person

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