You left me,
Finally;
And having gone,
You are with me more
Than you ever were.

It's not such a big thing,
To die.
Each of our deaths is no more
Than a sigh, a troubled tossing,
In the sleep of the world.
Even the greatest
Is gone at last,
And later, when we think of them,
We cay,
"Didn't he die some time ago?"
We forget them all.

You are gone.
Ant eh horror of those last weeks
Begins to fade.
Life resumes its pace,
Then I turn around and you are there,
In everyday things,
And the nightmare begins again.

You left me finally.
Yet having gone
You will never leave me
Again.

E. N. - email address EvelynN866@aol.com