She left with the leaves,
blown away by the October wind;
She left on a warm night with the full moon.
Days before, she stood at the door, silently, silhouetted against the bright sun;
saying goodbye to the light, goodbye to the world.
What about the visits not made, the places not seen?
- no matter;
No more winters to endure;
No more Novembers to wait through.
She left with October, before the cold winds blew the world gray;
She left with the yellow leaves, free to fly away.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 5:48 PM UTC
She left with the leaves,
blown away by the October wind;
She left on a warm night with the full moon.
Days before, she stood at the door, silently, silhouetted against the bright sun;
saying goodbye to the light, goodbye to the world.
What about the visits not made, the places not seen?
- no matter;
No more winters to endure;
No more Novembers to wait through.
She left with October, before the cold winds blew the world gray;
She left with the yellow leaves, free to fly away.
My mother-in-law, Barbara Romaine, died after a long illness on October 31, 2001. She gave me many things from beautiful clothes to good will.
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