Solitude

Remember how I used

To haunt the cemetery

The only place to find 

Fresh flowers all year round

In that modern post war

Urban developing suburb

How faithful my companion

Would accompany me

On my daily walks

Oh solitude I was sure 

To find you there waiting

Staring at the tombs stones

Reading about all the beloved

Taken too early leaving us behind

Beloved mother, beloved wife

Beloved daughter, beloved child

We would look lengthily at each other

Knowing that we didn't belong there

You had nobody

I was not beloved

And we would turn away 

To meet another day.

Lucette C. Bailliet ©