No-one could have told this state to me
Experience is needed which I lacked.
Just as the spider can’t live as a beee
A wife can’t know of widowhood’s impact.
At first the pain is like a serious burn
Though stricken ,we must plan the funeral rites
And, yes, that pain does lessen in its time
Alas then other pains alight.
The grey confusion, though it is not vile,
Makes one feel an isolation cold.
A puzzlement of grief makes weakness wild
And noone wants the story to be told.
No longer human,I stare at the sky
If this be truth, then where is her ally?
Photographer
I’ll have to declutter my bedroom
How my heart sings 