Autumn has come and you are not here.
Amongst playful piles of colours
The weather takes a turn - you know,
That gentle chill that feels crisp somehow
Wear a jumper or a jacket and still
Sit outside. It's utterly delicious.
But the appetite turns sour and my stomach
Churn the grief, again and again.
I have so many more autumns to come
With the leaves dancing in their secret circle
(just as they did last year and the year before)
And I wear dungarees now -
We are all our mothers' daughters here so I am you
Still here in autumn.
But she's in the wind
I feel it dance with me when I play
The song from Sasha's wedding day.
And the flowers (my bouquet from the day) I brought so she could feel a part
Death isn't the end I think, maybe the start
Maybe something entirely different.
But she's still here with me,
Whether just her genes in me literally
Or a comforting presence that makes sure
I don't feel so lonely anymore.
As I sit beside her grave
And recount everything from the previous day
I think about how much she would have relished
Every detail about the dress, the dance, the way they cherish
One another. She loves love, you see.
As do I. So do we.
Ah this grief is heavy, heavy hanging
Sometimes I don't feel like I can get through
The rest of this life without you.
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