There is much regret in death,
Regret for what I did not say,
Did not do,
Regret for not being there
On the day,
At the moment.
Death happens in a single day,
I tell myself.
The life,
All the days of the life are what’s important,
I tell myself.
But logic cannot reason away
The wounds of the heart.
If only death were like one last birthday.
We’d have a big party,
Everyone would sing,
Then,
The candles all blown out.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved