Grief is the stretch beyond the pain,
A long and bitter-sweet refrain.
I trace again a trail we walked,
A spot where we sat down and talked,
Or see a gift, a card, a note,
And each rehearses songs it wrote.
Reviewing portraits on the wall
Or treasured visits, I recall
The smiling image of your face:
These memories I dare not erase....
As on I press through flowers and weeds,
Such aching surges then recedes,
Like salty waves that ebb and flow,
Until I reach my turn to go.
Till we embrace again On High,
Grief is the stretch, the long good-bye.
(12/3/2013 - to be in Poems Between Here and Beyond)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem