It comes down to this...
Interminable seconds drift into endless hours,
As we each stand our post
As though guarding a catafalque.
There is little lonelier than this midnight vigil;
Than to sit beside an almost-unrecognisable face
Watching anxiously for the absence of presence.
Filling each minute with words left unspoken,
Afraid that even the sound of our hearts breaking will disturb them;
Afraid of hastening the moment when that restless sleep
Becomes irrevocably, dreadfully peaceful.
All we can do is immerse ourselves in the cognitive dissonance
Of as they were and final days,
Trying our hardest to scrapbook the two images
So that there's no overlap.
There is no moment more human.
We hope against hope despite the evidence of our eyes,
Unsure anymore of what to even hope for.
© mjc 10 June 2019