widower

departure of the cruelest kind
a lingering affliction
impending sorrow
he aches for her misfortune
wanting to ease her discomfort
with the touch of his sturdy hand to hers - frail.

emptiness

there she lies, depleted.
the wrinkles across her eyelids tell the stories of her years
thin, fragile, worn and tired
clay - the vessel for her soul

all
that
is
left

he weeps for her tragedy
how she deserved to live it full
overwhelmed by anguish and confusion
why her?

he turns to god in skepticism
how he could bare to see her ill?
he let her die a heinous death
did he filter out our prayers?

his eyes are dry
but his spirit is drenched
weeping for you, his child
let him fill you, recharge, you have a battle to fight
but may you know she rests well
and with god, you need not be polite.