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All somber, those who stand around
this wound cut deep into the ground
beside a box so square and stout
as if they fear you might get out
but from the casket there's no sound

The preacher murmurs on unheard
my attention's fixed upon a bird
a hawk soaring nearly out of sight
within a sky so clear and bright
as if nothing special had occurred

I was there at your final breath
that final battle fought with death
when you left to join old friends
where we all go when short life ends
that ending to the long foot path

Time to wipe a final tear
and though I hold you to be dear
I'll linger here for but a while
remembering your happy smile
but I'll not return, for you're not here

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
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Editing stage: 


delicate moments, sombre mood created nicely in this Final Adieu..very well done Stan...

raj (sublime_ocean)

A peek into the reality we all share in .Thanks for coming by..........stan

author comment

Ashley Morris.

I'm Not There

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on rippened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

A fitting poem, Stan. Thank you.

It never matters what I do
even if I think it's new
Someone has done it before me
when it comes to poetry
I hope I didn't have this trying to come out of my subconscious when I wrote my poem because I have read Hers a long while back ..................stan

author comment

thank you for both the read and kind comment.............stan

author comment
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