Not all tears of grief are unwelcome. It’s hard to explain; but at times there is something precious about tears.
The sun is sharp and bright, the air is very hot,
The breeze prevents the feeling that it’s close.
The sky? A poet’s blue the one that’s not
Describable in simile or pros.
I’m hanging out the washing on the line,
And crying big fat tears with thoughts of her.
I can’t explain in words these tears of mine,
So very strange they make me happier.
The deficit still dogs me all the time.
I want to share these days with my lost wife,
But still I’ve joy to share and find and I’m
So glad I savour past and future life.