I wish you had not left us;
I am lessened by your leaving.
If your leaving was a lesson,
then it hasn’t taught me why.
And though I would not question
your right to leave the living,
I wish you had stayed longer —
or paused to say goodbye...
.. and yet I’m glad it wasn’t harder,
I’m glad it wasn’t longer,
I’m glad you didn’t linger
in helplessness and pain.
But I confess, old love,
I never guessed how much
I would now be wishing
to hear your voice again.
© 2018 D. A. Clarke
