I do remember her
Cycling here both sitting down
Against the trunk of the tree
Beside the slow moving stream
Touching each others hands
Hearing the whistle of the train
A peaceful mourning sound
And crows squawking flying overhead
It has all changed now
For she died, so I came here
The best way to live with grief
The best way to fight death's sting
Sat by that tree and cried
While the chill air moved me
Gathering my memories
To dream of her in my cold bed
Image found at https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Beside_the_River_Stour_-_geograph.org.uk_-_192091.jpg
Oh Robin this is so poignant! Loss is never easy to cope with .. sigh.. 😥
ReplyDeleteSuch an emotional piece
ReplyDeleteVery sad! Missing goes on forever, but the memories (thankfully) do too.
ReplyDeleteThere is a haunted feel to this, but here the living plays the role of the ghost, lingering around old, well-loved spots.
ReplyDeleteYes, one must do what grief demands, in order to cop with grief. A lovely, if poignant poem.
ReplyDeleteOops! *cope with
ReplyDeleteAs C S Lewis said, grief changes over time. It is a vacent room, and yet the door is open, unlike the prisoner, we can walk out anytime, no ropes or chains. What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger. And a broken heart makes room....
ReplyDeleteOh, this is so emotive. Living with grief is not easy, and yet we trudge on with its sting in our hearts.
ReplyDelete-HA
I can fell that longing, under that special tree. I find i cant go to Pup's and my favourite spot. Too painful.
ReplyDeleteDont forget our date at Poets United tomorrow, Robin. 12:30 p.m. Central US time. It will be so grand!
ReplyDeleteI'll try to be that little boy again.
DeleteThis is sadly the way of life..,, happiness and grief in our lifetime. Well penned!
ReplyDeleteA triumph! I love this poem, Robin. Poignant … beautifully drawn. I think the thing I love about it the most is the deft inclusion of powerful images that speak to the passage of time … the then-and-now of a backwards glance … all of it pinned to that tree. Brilliantly written … an impactful expression of grief and the ebb of time.
ReplyDeleteLoss of love is hard to deal with. We do what we can to cope. Beautifully written
ReplyDeletePoignant write... in the end we have to live on with those good memories.. what else can we do...
ReplyDelete"Hearing the whistle of the train
ReplyDeleteA peaceful mourning sound"
It sounds that way to me too. Just as in real life, there are things that interfere with our peaceful moments like the squeaking crows overhead. Death of a loved one shatters our peace until we can gather our memories and embrace them.
Well done.
oh, this is so evocative.
ReplyDeleteperhaps one of the ways to cope with grief is to visit the places where we shared with our loved ones. i know i did that.
Oh this one bring a tear to my eyes.
ReplyDeletemuch love....
I invite you to link to
ReplyDeleteMonday WRites 170
much love...
"Hearing the whistle of the train
ReplyDeleteA peaceful mourning sound"
This sets the scene well for this sad, nostalgic poem.