As you walked by flowers in hand
and the book…
brushing the leaves from the stone
her name engraved upon it …
the sadness still there as you
placed the flowers on her grave ….
You’d sit cross legged on the
grass reading to her …
a calming story that she read to
the children when they were afraid ….
Protecting her even now loving
her more …
Everyday rain or shine you’d come
sharing part of your life to
entwine with hers …
I thought perhaps they would end
the visits…
you never missed a day…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem