Sunday, September 19, 2010

Injury

In the morning you took pretty pictures
before you told me you were leaving
that night. And then you went away
very quickly to someone I didn't know
but had prayed for. The father of my children
and a best friend closed the door on so many
years of never looking back. How strange
I thought that life would give me this
pain I would never recover from nor want to.
I will always remember you before the injury
and afterwards for how fiercely you fought
to live whole again. You never left the children.
You only left me.

2 comments:

Frank D. said...

Pain is part of living.. sorry to here about yours

Anne Murata said...

Thanks for your comment. This is "poetry," so it's a lot of drama, really. It's life based on fiction. Not false, not real. But that's nice of you. They say, if you don't know pain you can't truly know joy. Whomever "they" are. Aloha