Memory

I have no elegy to pen -

No swan song to sing,

The words fall empty on the page -

The throat it’s chords don’t ring.

In isolation my heart unfolds -

A blatant pain for all,

The throttling of the reapers scythe -

Whose blade alone did fall.

The child from my womb -

No longer pants for breath,

The cold dark tomb encompasses -

My heart broke now in death.

The voice I long to hear -

Speaks not for me,

The eyes I wish to meet -

Look on a world I cannot see.

These legs of mine go forward -

This mind to others flow,

My arms are held out daily -

As hands touch the young that grow.

Yet, deep within that chamber -

Where love for you abides,

Your face forever abiding -

Calls your memory to my side.