I sit here in solitude
my troubled thoughts 
focused so much on her.
It follows me 
day and night
hour to hour
dark to light.



So many unanswered questions
so many unknown truths
so many "whys".
I sit here in the silence
staring at life
looking at nothing.




I can't bring myself
to believe she has
really left us.
I go through the photos
trying to grip the reality
but nothing's there.



My mind keeps going back
to our very last visit.
There was something  
unfamiliar in the air.




Something moving,
something unfair.
That uneasiness
won't go away;
the remorse
so much alive
sadness so unreal.



My last contact with her
was through my poem.
I read her heartache aloud
those words I wrote.



Those hours I spent
looking at her.
Finally at peace
she wasn't there.
It was like she was in
that poem I placed within her
golden coffin;
"Do not stand by my grave and cry,
I did not die".



I just can't grip the reality
of her being gone
never to be seen
or heard again.
Could it be because
so much was left to be said ...
to be done?



That last embrace
in which she held me tight.
Oh God!  How I never thought
it would be my very last.



Was she telling me something
could I have been so blind?
Such anger I have inside
that last night
I left her to carry on.



Why is it ...
Why did I leave her to die?



I placed the palm of my hand
down upon her closed coffin
and felt such a sadness for her.
It made me quiver deep inside.



As the funeral director
gave me that first rose
from upon her coffin.
It was then I asked
for her forgiveness
as I cursed myself
for playing with her life.
Her most felt feelings.



Oh why is it ...
why did she die?


11 April 1988