Whispers of love

[Milk White Chocolate]

Whispers of love.

Walking home from work,
The brown leaves make me think of you,
They are lying dead on the asphalt,
Scattered carelessly across the street floor.
Association,
Colour,
Light brown leaves with shades of yellow.
Your oak wood coffin,
Pretty flowers sent as farewells,
The church,
The prayers,
You.
Sleeping peacefully,
In your coffin,
Hands across the chest,
In the concrete hole,
Smooth and grey,
In the graveyard,
Where birds were singing.
I wonder if you are cold down there,
Like me on this autumn day,
As I scurry home.
Maybe we should have buried you,
With your favourite blanket.
The one that use to keep you warm,
During the long winter nights.

I still can’t believe that you are dead.
Reality hasn’t set in,
Even though you have left us,
Three painful weeks ago.
I vividly remember,
The aching phone call.
My mother crying,
Telling me to be strong.
How you died alone,
Guilt.
How she hid in the bathroom,
Tears.
When they zipped the black bag,
Moan.
And carried you slowly out,
No!

I wipe away the tears,
With the back of my hand,
And philosophise.
The older you get,
Experience you gain,
And loved one you lose.
In October,
I lost you,
When you departed to meet grandpa,
Your son and Laurent,
My small baby cousin.
And I shall cherish our precious,
Last living memory,
Together.
June.
You smiling,
Sat on a white garden chair,
Laughter, fun and love,
As we played a silly game,
The family treasure hunt.

From now on and forever,
This will be the card I shall pull,
From my memories,
When grandma,
I need to whisper into your ear,
I love you.

[moonflower]

how beautiful this is Milk!..losing loved ones is so hard!..i think you captured all the emotions excellently!

[Milk White Chocolate]

Thanks for your kind words Moonflower, they warmed my heart

[Graeme]

This is a beautiful tribute, Milk White Chocolate, a little too close to home today.

Did you mean lose?

[Milk White Chocolate]

Thanks Graeme for reading and commenting...

Yeah! I mean lose...thanks for pointing it out.

[BeeJay]

That rarity which is beyond race and borders....is well captured in a few simple verse from the recesses of the soul.
_______Sometime some-one, somewhere will find a hand stretching out across oceans whenever your poem is read._________BeeJay

[purplelionness]

A granma who dies alone, such sadness conjured by this poem