My tears fall like a dropped coin,tinkling, and twirling to rest; a reminder of absence,the sounds of what was, and what will never be

I sit with my grief, no longer my parents deaths, but new demons to face wrapped in heavy webbing

Outside, friends lives continue, their new family arrivals or other joy and laughter floats on the breeze

My external silence becomes a language,words dissolve for grief does not know the warmth of company

When it is my time who will sit at my grave, who will cry for me, who will remember:Maybe I should have the funeral now so at least I can attend and say goodbye