Death’s Bitter Harvest

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DEATH’S BITTER HARVEST

What do you say to a man who lost his wife
His partner in trials tribulations and strife?
What do you say to his sons?
Their life hasn’t yet begun

I recall people I loved and lost
To death’s bitter harvest
His sons simply fidget and stare
At the man’s face lined with despair

They don’t know the ones I mourn
They don’t miss my brother
The gaping wound in my heart
So I get up and whisper

Time will heal
She is with God
Cancer has won
Her life is done

I turn away, anger hits me
I can’t voice my bitterness
But I know you hate these
Inane meaningless words

I know intimately the pain
I know and fathom the loss
I have lived and slept with them
You will learn to do so too

It’s mortality
Death’s bitter harvest

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14 thoughts on “Death’s Bitter Harvest

    • No, that is not what happens. You carry on, but the loss of someone you loved deeply is there, somewhere deep underneath the surface, and it comes up suddenly to shake you up.

  1. I am reminded of Johnny. Death’s bitter harvest indeed. And the mourning goes on in a part of your heart forever while the rest of you goes on with the business of life.

    • Yes it does. My brother was my childhood playmate, the one I grew up with. When I see people so much loved and needed die, that part of my mourning heart comes to the fore. The sense of loss never goes

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