Elegy to the Beloved
The twenty-ninth of October dawned,
I awoke, stretched my arms, yawned.
For a moment I had forgotten the pain
of loss, grief, tears that ran like rain
down pale-faced moon, featureless
like death. Overcome with distress
I have to look down on him, one last time.
He looks at peace, encased in coffin pine
silken shroud encompasses those cold limbs.