After Dying Elsewhere

After Dying Elsewhere

Love gone,
and I the poorer
walk on. Slower now
through forest shadows
where crunching autumn
leaves a cricket song
undone.

Not long ago
this same pathway
upheld spirited lovers.
Careless, led along
by the murmuring
of a stream
and a dream
that loneliness would never
wound them.

I stop
as moonlight finds
the old tree stump -- a
cenotaph in honor
of all that I am -- the
living part missing
and all hope
of resurrection... gone.

The cricket resumes,
and I the poorer
walk on.

c. Ciprianowords Inc. 2209