Gone Home


She's gone home where the grand oak lives,
whose branches and summer leaves insulate
from the turbulence of life,
mighty protector and overseer of souls
casts an elongated evening shadow,
cooling the grassy swell of earth
which serves as an emerald shroud,
purposely discriminating from those
who live and those who die.

A wailing voice shudders against the ground,
but she can't answer----the sobbing of
her lover wrenches her spirit heart,
she wants to grasp his masculine hand,
to feel the warmth of him one more time,
to tell him she is in harmony with finality,
forgiving him and others for her earthly pain,
tasting bitterness and resentment during life,
and satiated with serenity after last breath,
she's gone home where the grand oak lives.

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