From the Heart

From the Heart

This sorrow knows no loss.
Decades mean nothing
when it wells at the light
in your eyes, your image

a reminder of all we share,
my face more like yours
with each passing year.
My own eyes could be yours,

but moist now with memories,
my smile just as tentative,
until it beams with laughter.
When I smile. But for now

I think of your heart. Would I
give you mine instead, spare you
the pain you knew, only to give you
the pain I feel at this moment?

The prompt for NaPoWriMo.net Day 18 is to write an elegy, with the abstraction of sadness portrayed through physical details. Grief is not something that weighs on my mind every day, but memories such as this are just as hard to write about as they would have been twenty-five years ago. 

16 thoughts on “From the Heart

    • Thank you, Jazz. My father died at 60, so I’ve already passed him in years, and sometimes I wonder, “What if I could give him just those six more years?” Of course, the loss would be great at any age. My mother was gone at 74 – still young – but I think of her 15 years without my father. Grief offers too many alternatives for my taste.

      Liked by 1 person

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