Loss Caroline Zonis In all the lives we’ve lived, I’ve lost him In every way he’s left, he’s taken fragments of me And now, in this form, reflections offer me no comfort, no recognition I’ve not heard my voice nor seen my face in years So when he, very luckily, stands before me, holding all I’ve ever known beneath the surface, behind his eyes, I know elation like this is temporary I know from the core of me, only loneliness will show me constancy It will be there when I grow old, and it will beat my final breaths from shattered lungs There will be no deeper sorrow than this
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