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Waiting.

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A lingering look, a sad smile
The gentle touch of his hand of hers.
But he pulls away – too soon -
Her fingers grasp empty air.
Head bowed, he turns away.
The darkness shrouds his passing.

Every day, more deaths.
Endless lists of the names
Of the unlucky ones.
The men who gave their lives.
And every day she fears the worst –
That his name would be there,
Amongst the dead.

Life calls, but she ignores the plea.
Sits in the dark instead.
Waiting.

Long weeks, long months, long years.
The diamond on her finger -
Once so burning bright,
Is dim.

All the things she should have said.





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