For two weeks
After your death
I slept
With the lights on,
Frightened
Beyond measure
Of finding you
Lurking
In the shadows;
Then, for a year,
There was
Tranquility.
I had seen you die
And knew comfort,
For you crossed over
Most gently.
But that comfort
Did not last
As you returned
To haunt my nights;
And when the dreams come
I'm a little girl again,
Buffetted and dismayed
By the strength
Of your anger
And bitterness
Two years
After your passing;
Why can't I
Find peace
In the night?
Why can't I
Tell you
To go,
To follow
The light
To your
Eternal rest?
Or is it I
Who is inflicting
Ethereal punishment
For reasons
Yet to be
Uncovered?