Winter makes it look barren and cold
but it will take on its own beauty
lying beneath the shade trees
in these
fields where lives are laid to rest.
A simple marker
only evidence of a lifetime of experiences,
none of which will ever be known
except to those who look at it now
with the painful absence it represents.
I bring flowers from time to time;
they soon die as well.
The living pay their homage
to a name and a space
as if it's the place where love lies in wait.
But it's only an empty hole in the ground
like the hole she left in my life;
all I knew and loved is gone.
I'll be needing some new shoes if I'm to be
strong enough to walk this path alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem