I don’t want to talk about someone in the past tense;
The here and now will do.
Hearing, lustening, feeling across the range of sense;
Being around people presently through and through.
Seeing memorials, farewells, and gatherings of goodbye;
Flowers lay, horse and cart pulling away.
Knelt down by stone, looking up at the grey sky;
Unspoken words not ever able to say.
Wretched dreams unlived and walks unwalked;
Guidance and advice, unable to be dispensed.
Nattering and talks left silent, untalked;
Unable to place arms, no hugs against.
Worry and fear of you no longer near;
Push it aside and stand tall together.
Until the time comes, we must live out every year.
Weather the storm whatever the weather.
AGAINST THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC - ACTON28.BLOG 