A river of sorrow floods my tongue
spilling grief into another goodbye,
too many sons of art are dying.
There are no more songs or second acts.
Silence slams against legacy and I search
through digital clouds seeking comfort.
Memories mix with tears as agony
follows the scent of decaying roses
to mounded dirt collecting headstones.
Death will come to each soul drawing breath,
but its timing is a bitter wind when it comes
to pens still full of ink and music notes left unsung.
©Susie Clevenger 2016