She returns to the house
after the funeral,
alone for the first time
in weeks.
She exhales onto the couch;
a sadness of flowers
surrounds her.

This is the silence
that is not silence:
    the refrigerator hums;
    the traffic grumbles; 
    her heart beats.

This is the emptiness
that is not emptiness:
    shadows shift;
    memories jostle;
    objects reach for her.

This is the death
that is not death:
    dreams yet to fulfill;
    wine to pour;
    grace to shed, widely and without regret.

Text and
image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.