Worse Than Death
WORSE THAN DEATH
Calling for you.
Reaching with my hand.
Reaching out to feel...
for finger tips, yours.
No one there!
Where is that grasp?
That bouquet of warmth,
one hand tucked in another.
Ice cold, cooler,
freezing, I call for you.
Call out in confusion,
the name of our child.
Ragged hard breathing.
Then hardly audible...
whispering the names,
I let go of living .
In the void but nowhere...
I’m gone from here now.
My fingers still move,
reaching for you.
-Edlynn Nau
© April 26, 2020
Dedicated to Covid-19 victims that die without the farewell or affection from their spouse or children.
Copyright © Edlynn Nau | Year Posted 2020
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