He wasn’t prepared
for the death of his wife.
He thought their love
would last on earth
forever and ever.
He forgot or didn’t
want to face the fact
that love and lovers
die sooner or later
in this fleeting life.
Now he spends his
days crying streams
of salty tears and
having imaginary
heartrending
conversations
with his dead wife
and sends prayers
to the highest heavens
with the tearful hope
he’ll see her again
when he follows her
into the Great Unknown.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Quomodo cogis comas tuas sic videri?
79, cancer survivor, work out 3 times a week, ride my exercise bike 2 hours daily. Began writing poetry October 2023, living in Greensboro, North Carolina, originally from just outside of Boston, MA.
Retired and enjoying a solo, reclusive life always researching and gaining knowledge. Most of my poems are fictional.
I write about many things: Spirituality, Mysticism, the Paranormal, Cryptids, Werewolves, Ghosts, 411s, Nature, Birds, Animals, Romantic Love, Death, NDEs, Women Persecuted as Witches, Fictional Characters I Create, News Stories, AI, Robots, Insects, like the poem entitled, Hail Caesar Bob, (about when bees were swarming me outside the door to my apartment), and many other topics. I write a minimum of 3 poems daily, sometimes more.
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