Dear John

Don’t look down, she lies below Past memories ebb and flow. You haven’t but a single word to say, Pity for all that has happened this way. It is by your hand that she lies cold In the ground, beginning to mold. You broke her heart with your swift speech, Your daring words, she could not reach. A woman’s heart is a delicate thing. You must lay it down softly, In the ground, beneath your feet.