There are things
I did not do.
I did not touch
you.
You
died. Without
a sound.
Your soft brown eyes pierced me.
I saw you go in the quiet
way you did everything.
I knew you were gone
but not before I
knew sadly, silently
that
I
could not hold
you in a final
embrace.
Closeness had run out
so long ago,
though we loved until the end,
bereft of speech,
as we we were bereft of
touch.
I bowed to your
blank stare.
I would have died for
you if I could have.
but I could not
save you from
this destiny
with the Father
Who
Loved
you
Caroline Shank
2.2,2023
Feb 4, 2023
Feb 4, 2023 at 5:32 AM UTC
There are things
I did not do.
I did not touch
you.
You
died. Without
a sound.
Your soft brown eyes pierced me.
I saw you go in the quiet
way you did everything.
I knew you were gone
but not before I
knew sadly, silently
that
I
could not hold
you in a final
embrace.
Closeness had run out
so long ago,
though we loved until the end,
bereft of speech,
as we we were bereft of
touch.
I bowed to your
blank stare.
I would have died for
you if I could have.
but I could not
save you from
this destiny
with the Father
Who
Loved
you
Caroline Shank
2.2,2023
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