My Wife's Fourth Anniversary
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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.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2021
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