April 6^th marked the 14^th anniversary of my husband’s death. Fourteen years and I have survived, although I miss him still. Thoughts of him bubble up during unexpected moments – one of his favorite sayings – a familiar gesture – a deep sense of loss. I received an email message this morning from someone I do not know (through the Veriditas Listserve) which aptly captures some of my emotions.

News of Death

Last night they came with news of death
not knowing what I would say.

I wanted to say,
"The green wind is running through the fields
making the grass lie flat."

I wanted to say,
"The apple blossom flakes like ash
covering the orchard wall."

I wanted to say,
"the fish float belly up in the slow stream,
stepping stones to the dead."

They asked if I would sleep that night,
I said I did not know.

For this loss I could not speak,
the tongue lay idle in a great darkness,
the heart was strangely open,
the moon had gone,
and it was then

when I said, "He is no longer here"
that the night put its arms around me
and all the white stars turned bitter with grief

by David Whyle