When it was all but lost,
you came to me and said,
“Let’s leave this lonely place.”
You held my hand
and kissed my head,
and said,
“There is no disgrace
in mourning the dead,
but we are not dead, yet.
My love;
come,
let us live, instead.”
When all the tears were dry,
the grieving pacified,
we said our last good-byes,
and drove off in a storm.
We kept and easy pace,
not going any place.
Just you and I,
in the rain,
trying to escape the pain.
I drove us through the night.
You slept off to my right,
until the storm did break,
and dawn’s sunrise found you awake.
We found a seaside town,
not many people around.
A clean and quiet motel,
where we could feed,
and shower ourselves.
When I awoke that day,
I feared you’d gone away.
I found you standing there,
beside the ocean,
breathing in the air.
A cup of coffee in your hands,
your bare feet in the sand.
The wind in your hair,
and a smile upon your face.
I held you close and then,
faced into the wind,
breathing deep,
and knowing we
would be okay again.
We might have run from grief,
but we found this beach;
a better place
to face the past,
than that old people trap.
You rested your head on me,
said, “I think this will be
the best part of our lives.”
I admit I was surprised,
to hear you speak the words,
but I had to agree.
HG – 2020
Great post😀