In His Sleep
I feel soft ghostly hands around my throat
That want to pull me to the darkest deep
My husband cannot leave or be remote
He wishes me to join him in his sleep.
I shall resist for I desire to live
Though lonely are my hours without his face.
I have no more I wish to give
Now he has taken from me his kind embrace.
As lonely as a swan without its mate.
As tired as swallows after they migrate
I must accept my unconsoled fate
I'll not believe this be a constant state.
From my loss I shall recover when
The birds return and summer comes again
Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite | Year Posted 2016
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