Old sorrow’s brand

I found your wedding shirt among my clothes
I must have saved it from my sister’s hands
Remembering the dead is not on trend
Fear of  grief and this life’s startling blows
Your  last smile

Yet loss and death are not  such evil foes
Though on  our face they leave  old sorrow’s brand
And they can’t be controlled,  we understand
We learn how small we are, like worms  below
A wedding shirt

And so this knowledge’s to our heart’s bestowed
We can’t send loss to trash to be disposed
Our response  speals from our heart, by mind unplanned
We are naked as the East wind blows
A wedding dress