A Quietude In Passing

Another one gone, this same year.


There will be
the walking through space
wrestling belief that something will happen with the next step you take
something that will bring him back, closer to you
or you to him
whichever
anything to lessen the pain

the smelling of linens as you fold them away
preserving the all you felt for him
and he for you
before separation snatched him from your safe harbour
the inward strain of ears
to remember his voice
anything that used to be.


Of fathers and husbands
Every reminder that tells them he is no longer here, every glance that shows them the void he would otherwise now occupy, I know it,

I know it because I've been through a shade of it - once like a clouded daybreak, once again like a rainstorm that surges back and forth.

But these are living people I speak of. Theirs are not.

So how much more would their heart ache, to the very heartseams which I yet know not of - and pray it remain so for long enough a time.

Love is a frightening glory, as great and comforting as it is devastating. It can give you the world the very same time it can take it all away, because the moment you gain something, it's yours to lose.

* Title verb refers to the act of passing away, as well as the walking action of mourners paying last respects. And for this author, a reflective passing of thoughts.