By: S.M. Moore

“my thoughts on an obituary”

An elegance tends to possess the mind
In dismay
I hear about the wind floating along the sea foam
And how it brushes over the wave caps

A woman says: my lover, my life
You have been my teacher
And only now do I recognize you
In absence
It is only now that the waves are large
And the tide is sharp
That realize I cannot quell them
But you could, and perhaps you may again
But only in time, might I hope
In time, I will become like you