She’s beside me
Her fingers splayed
From arthritis
Unsure of the keys
On that old piano
We’re laughing
Notes flutter
Like sparrows
Echo in the air
Happiness tangible
On waking
Palpable grief at the
Emptiness of the room
She’s gone of course
Wherever she goes at
Daybreak
Back to heaven’s gate
A strong sea wind
My only consolation
If the best part of life
Is the company
How strange to be left
Bereft
Out of the loop
As the departed gather
In numbers now
Hoping as night falls
To find them all
Holding hands
In the dark.
By Julia Fulton
October Process 