Holding a Hand
 

Twenty eight years of holding,
some good times and some hard,
we walked on.
  

Now the days were coming to an end,
The parting would be soon.
We held on.
  

As God is the curtain of life folding,
I feel the heart fade.
I am sad.
  

Life is lonely, life is for the living.
What is there to live for?
I walk on.
  

Memories often surprise me,
showing up unexpected and fresh.
Tears roll on.
  

Oh for the touch of a lip or hand.
Longing for a voice.
Quietness goes on.