A Cold Night
it is deep winter again,
cold enough to freeze the river
a distant owl voices its displeasure
at enduring such frigid discomfort
the night is cold and dreadful
as usual I kneel at the mausoleum
up to my thighs in drifted snow
sheer tattered gown clothes me
yet, I feel no discomfort at all
your name is chiseled on the stone door
a spectral white mist drifts across
the full moon as a distant dog barks
will you never return to me, My Love?
they say the grave never delivers
its sleepers to those who mourn
the cruel injustice of their passing
is love truly stronger than death?
I am here, but where are you?
winter wind moves through the trees
and sighs mournfully in their branches
where are you? why do I even kneel here?
have you forgotten me, in so short a time?
such a short time yet it seems like centuries
I am overcome with grief and rejection
my fingertips caress your name on the door
only a birth date is engraved there
my name is next to yours.....
two dates beside it
Share
Print
Save
Follow
A great longing that should be reserved only for the loser in the race between a couple to the end of their lives. And that should last only a very short time.
Ron