It took me months to bury you Awakening daily to the carcass in my barren bed
Awakening to choking on the cries again Nightmares of what another might be doing to our corpse
Now that it’s done things are no easier The pipers have returned home The widow’s veil more an alienable eccentricity every passing day
Now that it’s done the bed is empty The earth is chilled and grey
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem