A free-verse poem that you may need to be married for over forty years to truly understand |
The elderly man visits her grave daily come sunshine or rain. He kneels before her headstone; his fingertips trace her name engraved deeply into the stone; tears fill his eyes as he talks with her lovingly. “The kids tell me I can’t live in the past, that it’s time I move on, get on with my life. But they don’t understand. Unless they’ve lived it, they simply can’t fathom the unbearable hurt. We shared more than fifty happy years together – living, loving, working the farm, raising kids, relishing the good times, supporting each other through the bad times and various family tragedies. “We as a couple became one entity, much like two saplings grafted together so they fused into one tree. We were intertwined so completely that life without the other became meaningless. Then your death came like a bolt of lightning that splits a tree in half, immediately killing the part that falls to the ground while leaving the other part still standing but permanently damaged. “I am that scorched, scarred, hollowed out trunk, still standing but mortally wounded. Like that tree that now derives insufficient nourishment from the fertile soil to survive the bolt of lightning and eventually must die, life no longer nourishes my soul. I am heartsick and hollow in my core. Mere words cannot express how much I miss you and long to hold you one more time. I wither more each day until I’ll be alongside you soon, my darling. I am ready to join you and make our tree whole again for all eternity.” The old man stiffly stands, lays his hand atop the headstone for a moment, then turns and walks feebly to his old, battered pickup truck. He drives slowly away one more time; he promises, “I’ll be back to visit you tomorrow, sweetheart.” Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |