As Yo Yo’s cello sings Mascagni, I take flight on those four
Strings which bring me to a place of grace and calm. I go
To a nest too small for the rest of the world, a nest close
To the sky where passers-by are trekking to another place.
I hear them say, we’ve paid our dues: we have lived and we
Have died, and on the other side we escape a remake of that
Ultimate sorrow.
Night had begun to creep over his window sill casting a
Gloom as deep as the shadows in his room. On a dresser
In the corner, the nurse has lain a note, he knows by rote
“….its time for you to say goodbye.” The room was packed
With the departed but no one there to say goodbye.
Beautiful. Stay with us longer dear Glen. I love your inner rhymes in these moving poems. Love, Susan