He Has Gone Poem by Diana Rosser

He has gone to shadow in sweet shade,
out of the glare from the ancient sun,
placed his footsteps in footsteps done,
left the ripe rose garden that he laid.
The coloured roses they have stayed,
their fragrant petals float down undone,
now their beheading must be begun,
their life and death be duly weighed.
I handle now his familiar shears,
recognize the Christmas gift I bought,
remember how we sat down to talk
on the corner bench through many years;
just a week before the word he taught
njia, the way runs through my tears.