Does She Dream–She Dreams No More (Sonnet)

Does she dream–she dreams no more,

Though mother grieves, her spirits flown.

Tears are shed in torrents, stain upon the floor,

In her heart of hearts she has most surely known.

.

Knowledge diminishes not a mother’s sorrow,

Science cold, offers no sympathetic relief.

Knowing there will be no more tomorrows,

Does little to quench her wrenching grief.

.

Its time she needs to weep and mourn,

A daughter lost to procedure routine.

To unite and mend a family torn,

By results unexpected, gross and obscene.

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Her passing a reminder of the commonplace, still serious,

And the pain no less painful turns a family delirious.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

Footsteps

Footsteps travel on as far as the eye can see

Side-by-side in lockstep just as straight as straight could be

I followed for a time to see where they would go

After a while only one set remained in the sand it did show

I stopped in amazement as they up and disappeared

What must have happened, something tragic I feared

Turning in circles no steps did depart

They just seemed to stop never returning whence they start

The second set went on at a steady measured pace

Never picking up stride, never seeming to race

I followed for a time the solitary set of prints

Nothing about their direction offered any hints

Where they might be going I hadn’t had a clue

Walking straight and narrow they never veered from true

Feet tired and achy the end it seemed in sight

Time had passed so quickly as day gave in to night

Before the light had faded I saw a chapel up ahead

A tiny cemetery, some benches and a shed

Seated on the bench, a solitary elderly man

With a bouquet of red roses held tightly in his hand

Clearing my throat so not to startle or to scare

I took a seat on his bench and struggled not to stare

Mustering up the courage I asked if he was alone

He responded, no he wasn’t in the gentlest of tones

Looking round and round there was no one else in sight

The story that he told turned me a paler shade of white

He told me that he took this stroll nearly every day

Just he and his loving wife would walk, hold hands and pray

With a smile he continued in a soft and mild tone

That part way through their walk she couldn’t manage alone

He’d pick her up and carry her the rest of their way

Her arms around his neck begging him to stay

Home is where he’d take her and lay her down to rest

Pointing to a tiny grave, he frowned, “I know its not the best”

But I promised her I’d be with her each and every day

We’d been together 60 years I knew no other way

Tonight I told her I’d be home soon never again to leave

The pain was getting far too hard as each evening alone he’d grieve

Patting my hand with trembling legs, hunched over he did stand

Shuffling over to his darling’s grave he placed the roses from his hand

I sat and watched as he walked away ‘til he’d wandered out of sight

Never again did I see the man who endeared me on that night

He’d kept the promise never to leave that he made to his love

His tiny grave, right next to hers, they’re together up above.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~