Poems on Mary Helen's Passing

As One Forlorn

Oct. 21, 2005

Some see the dead or spirits of the dead

Others dream or lie because they cannot see,

I neither see, nor dream, nor lie, instead

I struggle with the enigma that is me.

The rank unsolved equations of my deeds

Escape the resolution of my heart,

Whatever life is left in me still bleeds

And I from all things evil cannot part.

What does it matter whether night or day

When in the silence one is left alone

To grieve for a soul that softly passed away.

Is love a sin for which we must atone?

It seems the fabric of this life is torn,

Among the shreds I live as one forlorn.