Mourning

Surrounded by family, and yet alone, he says Grace for all of us.
He IS Grace, his demeanour always quiet.
He lost her six months ago, his muse, his life's companion ~
Holding hands together into their eighties and beyond.
Now, there is nothing but memories,
Harder to bear when one is missing from the table.
Excusing himself quietly from the gathering,
He escapes outside to feel the cool air, the sun on his face.
He has not shaven since that day, and never will again.
Chatter and laughter waft from the kitchen and he closes his eyes,
Hearing nothing but the wind in the branches, dreaming of his love.

Kira Braun