Hard to put into words
the extent of grief.

No cavalry of relief in sight
coming over the hill.

You, my son, those
last days, so ill.

Unlike you,
you soldier like
in life's fight.

Death took you unaware
that night
and again
the day after.

No present mirth,
no laughter,
no Shakespearean drama
set in tow,
no Chekhov way
with words,
no Ibsen dark talk,

just this, these words,
and a blown from palm kiss.

Silent words:
we love and miss.

today
i felt your
secret love
which was
always hidden
deep within
your heart

soon the buds of spring
shall unfold to reveal their
multitude of hues

Looking back
at that time
everything

falls in place,
but drawn out,
slow motion,

nightmare like
in its depth,
in your death.

You, my son,
so passive,
so Stoic

when we spoke
that last time,
no panic

in your face
or your eyes.
I panicked,

seeing you
so bloated
that I rowed

with the nurse.
You, my son,
sitting there

sipping juice
out of breath,
said little,

felt tired,
eyes closing,
I thought you

were dozing,
but unknown
to us there,

death was near,
close at hand
in the air.

You see
A person only truly falls in love
Once in their life time
And once that time is used up
There is no more.
You can lie to yourself
And to others
But if you were truly in love with them
That love cannot be undone.
I am in love.
A love that won't go away
With my best friend.
I fell off
The bridge of love
And into the waters
Where he followed
But his love came with strings attached
A bungee
And he jumped back up
And left me sitting there in the waters
While he's up on the bridge
Calling me up there
While I'm wishing him down here
And I have no bungee.