There is no ego when
strength and eloquence abandons,
ruining her dress as knees dig
into the grass.

What took rivers lifetimes,
hot tears carve like razors
grand canyons of sadness, altering
forever the landscape of her face
all in the moments it takes to lower
her husband’s casket.

Her wailing: so pained, so disabling
all present must re-center their balance;
yet while watching her, I
stand crippled with compunction—
she mourns her lover,
I covet her ever having one