Tara

I stand by his grave, where praise be, I hope to be laid, my eyes like thunder, sobbing like a banshee, it makes me shudder, from the blue Nave, stripped out of a tree, nothing’s to be saved, there friends cluster, huddled in the lee, what else passes muster, my voice starts to break, I was such a tease, birds have gone away, his face was a wonder, happy laughing clean, I tore it asunder, it's quiet at this place, this place of need, they lower his casket, leave a space for me.