Tomorrow morning's early light, land painted white,
I'll take a long and winding walk, I know you'll wait.
Through mountain forest trails and valleys that divide
I cannot linger, cannot stop, and can't be late
Eyes looking inward, seeing nothing but dark spots,
I won't see anything and hear no noise nearby.
Unknown to anyone, back hunched, and hands in knots.
My sorrow darkness; light is giving up. A sigh.
I will not see the sunset spreading its gold leaf
nor see the distant sailboats that are Harfleur bound
Arriving at your grave, where I will stand, in grief
Bouquet of hollies, and fresh heathers, on the ground
Author notes: wc 113
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