Talking to a tombstone
The cold hairs that stick up on my neck
The sun high in the clouds, like a little speck
The morning dew that dampens the grass
reminds me that another year has past
I've not forgotten you, every time the birds sing
It reminds me of everything
But another year has past,and i have grown
And i find myself talking to a tombstone
I sit and look at the moss that has gathered around the grey edge
I look to the side of me and see the wild berries in the hedge
I tell you about my day
I ask you why you went away?
I smile but i feel so much sadness
And i tell you, you are truly missed
I put the newly bought flowers by last years bunch
I get out my sandwiches and tell you the news over lunch
I tell that it is late and that i must be getting home
I feel better talking to a tombstone
I clean the grave with my hankie in my pocket
I can hear you giggle and tell me to stop it
I tell you that i still love you
And that was one thing which was always true
I never lied about that!
That's an eternal fact
I get up from my wet knees
I feel the tears get colder in the breeze
And i walk away, i feel you in me, i am not alone
Says me, talking to a tombstone.
This was written long before, we found out about mum being sick. But yet now this poem has so much more relevance now than it did when i wrote it. Another year is almost with us, but mums tombstone now for me, is in Peru, that;s were i buried you mum. You loved this poem, and i love you still.
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