Summer
All summer we sat at the table, side by side,
each of us grieving for what might have been
and for what could never be again.
The grief arose from different sources.
His was the grief of youth and mine of age.
It looked like we were wasting time,
playing computer games. They were the distraction
keeping madness at bay.
What is said about that lonesome valley
isn’t always true. We were there together.
He’s going back to war. I dread another grief
of what might have been or what
could never be again.
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Such a beautiful poem Wendy. Hope that your mind was making up a story and that you don’t have a young loved one putting his life on the line.