Bereavement's Path
by Deborah Keele
The season is fall with colors so bright.
Days beauty lost to my sight.
A sad tune sings its discontent.
This unexpected warning whispered,
Love dies in the quiet moments.
Neglected, swept aside.
No fan fare to play.
You'd think there would be crowds to moan;
but something wonderful just quietly goes down.

Across the yard you call my name.
I turn, surprised at the pain.
Your smile beckons,
the distance between so great.
Foolish heart, swear its not to late.

In Winter's chill of night,
I watch you sleep.
In your heart shadow a stranger creeps.
My eyes beg for a touch of words to sooth,
take away the doubts.
Unending, the silence shouts.
I reach out my hand needing to understand.
My ears hear another joke.
The hammer delivers its shattering stroke.
You turn away.
Apathy claims this day.

One more season turns.
Winter's blanket once more lays.
Tears path is well burned.
The crisp air whispers in my ear,
a question asked for the last year.
Did he notice?
Sadly, no.
I walk alone.
Love died in the quiet moments
Barren, laid to waste.
Bereavement now takes its place.

Writing index