Rik George writes

Remembrance Twenty 

It should not be, but it is so 

That she has died and I survive.

It seems to me that she should live 

And I should be the one to go.

Whatever god may be in charge 

Has erred. I should have been the one

First coffined if justice had been done. 

Instead I’m left to drone a dirge

For her. Moaning with my sorrow 

I stir my dogs to sympathy.

They take my lap to comfort me 

And bid me live for some tomorrow

Whose emptiness echoes with the noise 

Of words she spoke a long time since

That I remember hearing once 

When the air still quivered with her voice.