Lilian, my wife died four years ago. Never forgotten. I still miss her. I can never forget her.
From the brow of the hill I could clearly see the panorama Beneath me. Worried I saw From afar a dark man, Scythe in hand reaping…..God knew what. In far off fields full of tall grass. It was not the man who interested me. It was my wife, a marriage of forty-seven years. I saw her hobbling down an uneven path, Her body bloated with disease. She never looked back. Strange I thought, There were no birds around. Only profound silence. Arriving at a crossroad, Without hesitation She took the right narrow trail. My heart thundered in pain. I knew what was in her mind. Incautiously she arrived at a bridge. Thick fog covered the other side An extension that led to unknown worlds. Head straight but body limping She dragged herself over. Helpless I looked on till she disappeared. Disconsolate I sat down on a stone. She had suffered enough. She will now rest forever. But I? Will I find some salutary rest? I felt the pain of separation. From afar a bell chimed an Ave Maria dirge.
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