I woke up and found you gone.
In my dream we were together again,
You in the kitchen making coffee,
The smell fragrant to me as always,
I loved your morning coffee.
You made it better than I ever could.
You hugged me before we drank
Our coffee and discussed poetry.
Holding you, I smelled your fragrance,
Far more pleasing than the coffee’s.
Upon waking to the world I remembered
That you were gone. Six feet under
in the cold smothering ground.
Tears fell from my eyes.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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