Sleep Well My Love

At the far end of the casket,

his girlfriend hugged his wife


And told her she was sorry,

that she had tried to steal her life


Their tears then ran in unison,

for a man who loved them both


The years they shared now testament,

to a choice he left unspoke


They never met before this day,

and would never meet again


But each knew well the other,

and they almost felt like friends


The mistress left, the children wept,

and the grandchildren played outside


As his wife looked down, saying: “Your hell has passed,

sleep well my love—goodbye”


(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2016)

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