Eulogy

EULOGY

Up far too early on a
Sunday morning

The face in
The mirror
No longer
Yours

The birds outside
Singing a song
Unfamiliar to
Your ears

The sun burning
Out what’s left
Of all grace

That you
Once held
Like a child
In your arms

Cradled

As you see her
Ghost in
Passing

Walking by
In the other

Room

~ R.M. Engelhardt
©2024