She pulled his jumper up to her face,
breathed him into the now empty space.
Flopped in the chair that was clearly his own,
not sad, not lonely,not even alone.
Through the window his eyes once looked through
she smiled and pondered the beautiful view.
A book of his lay on the table nearby.
She gasped at the title, then started to cry
‘What Remains of Us – Poems to Uplift’
He’d gone but had left her a marvellous gift.
Inside the cover he’d scribbled a note,
Words from a poem that Angelou wrote
“And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always irregularly.
Spaces fill,
with a kind of,
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses,
restored,
never to be the same,
whisper to us.
They existed.They existed.
We can be. Be and be better.
For they existed.”
—————-
Excerpt from When Great Trees Fall by Maya Angelou.
