A tired man, weathered face filled with the valleys of ages, sits alone the overhead gleaming from his salt and pepper tresses.
The face of his wife, a picture in his mind, her fresh teeth shining, warms that room for her reserved in his thoughts.
He believed they would dance together to a mutual end. He lived on, not alive for a while. Others sought his hand, but his amygdala could stand no other touch.
He closes his eyes, and she beckons. A warmth engulfs him from inside and emerges to surround him.
A voice in his ears pulls him like a siren.
She takes his hand, and he walks away with her.
Finally, neighbors stand outside as the hearse drives away.
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Author:
JDB (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 4th, 2025 00:37
- Comment from author about the poem: Thinking of the day we meet again.
- Category: Love
- Views: 25
Offline)
Comments4
Reminds me of a George Jones song "He stopped loving her today" Strong sentiment in this poem of a love that goes on. Lovely
That is what I intended, the transcendence of love.
A lovely dedication to a passed loved one, letting them know their love carries on and they will dance together again. A touching and well written poem
Such feedback is welcome.
You are very welcome
Thinking those thoughts as well, in a different way from the way one did as a child or a younger person. This touches and lifts up. Thanks for sharing. It helps in the preparing. All the more as love is bridged between existences.
Great write
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