Yet I pray

I feel and fear the emptiness of life
Now that I have grieved as a good wife
No-one wants a holiday with me
Stop the car,I see an ancient tree

The future looms and ends with my own end
What will fill the space, perhaps my friends?
Each day is constructed ,falls to dust
I lie in bed untouched by  husband’s lust

My senses heightened by anxiety
I memorize the details  that I see.
The old man smiling , kissing my  cold  hand
We remembered Norfolk cliffs in coloured bands

When  he flew, he pulled my heart away
Now my breast is empty  yet I pray