Undrawn Shade
by Sharon Skinner

There is a window in my tombstone.
A place for looking out and
looking back.
A place from which to view eternity
from end  to end   to end.
No curtains dress the roughened edge,
no flowers grow upon the sill,
it looks the same on day and night.
No glass to clean the smudges from,
my soul sits here and gazes out.
From where I rest my heavy heart
I cannot see my home,
Nor touch the hands of those I love,
Nor gaze into their eyes.
The lack of joy descends on me
a heavy, heaving shroud,
as mourning breaks, a keening wail,
that drifts away like smoke.
And staring out at what was lost,
I find I am at peace.

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