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SADNESS IS
Sorrow like a veil of tears
Settles upon the shoulders
Of an elderly woman
Standing before her son's grave
Dainty flowers in her hands
She strews them all around
Hoping to brighten the plot
And bring memories to rest
She thinks back on all her
loves
wishing they were here with her
wanting to see them once more
whole, healthy, happy, alive
Life was wonderful and full
But at the end so alone
With none to follow after
Save some distant relative
Who wouldn't remark on her
Passing or visit her grave
Nor place flowers with longing
As she does now for her son
Life is like borrowed finery
Given back, tattered and used
Shadowed remnant treasured still
Tucked away and seldom used
Like glory creased and faded
But well worn and past its time
When emptied of those faces
One wishes to hold onto
She wonders if her son hears
When she talks of him and weeps
Wanting things to be changed
Knowing this is all there is
If his knowing would have changed
His choices, his life, his death
And let it be as it should
With him standing here, not her
Will he be the one waiting
When it's her turn to pass on
Leaving the sorrow behind
As she rejoins her lost loves
She won't miss these sad visits
And will be glad to move on
Leaving little in her wake
To be remembered or missed
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