Saying goodbye for the last time.

Saying goodbye for the last time.

In the depths of her darkness,

People surrounded her. 

Eyes watched her.

Sorrowful faces,

Looked back at her,

Shed tears on her,

Held on to her,

As if, 

Expecting her, 

To hold them up.

They continued,

To want information.

Some even gave advice.

Advice. 

I watched her.

And listened. 

She appeared so strong.

Yet, as her heart

Just started to mend,

It was again shattered. 

And I was worried.

The mourners sat.

The service began.

How would she say goodbye?

We clasped hands,

as the Minister spoke.

We clasped hands,

as others spoke. 

We clasped hands,

as letters were read. 

We clasped hands,

As we watched, 

Photos of her babe,

Flash on the screen,

To Louis Armstrong’s

What a Wonderful World. 

 

At the cemetery,

Again surrounded,

By family and friends, 

We watched,

As her child, 

Was laid to rest.

They watched,

As we clasped hands,

Then bodies,

And cried from the soul.

 

As intimate as birth, 

But with an audience,

We buried her child.

Our deepest emotions,

Displayed,

For all to see.

 

Strangely, the sun shone.

The wind blew.

Even the birds sang...

Despite our

Gut wrenching sorrow.  

 

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