It feels like a slight; unbearable snub
that everything’s the same, not one bloom
from the vases has drooped, the garden shrub
you had planted is still upright, the room
just as it was before, the cushions rubbed
threadbare where you had sat. The planet zooms
on its exact track, no change in pace or hub.
Only you are gone, even your perfumes
linger still in wardrobes and empty gloves.
Ashes to ashes. A deadpan earth subsumes
every flake till nothing is left above.
The house’s strangely unchanged. I resume,but with shifts in meanings of loss and love.
For a grieving friend, with love, respect and wishes for strength and peace as she copes with her loss.