After Death
For all of us left behind
The memory of your scent, like incense:
an infusion in the emptiness of every room.
We share the grief of you in silence,
hot with solitude. The absence
of song, the hollowness of every footstep
taken from you — the growing distance —
follows every breath inhaled with vengeance,
until we turn attention to the sunflowers.
Fill our mourning hours with remembrance.
We’ve found your hall of blossoms —
every gate an entrance.
Nora Pasco is a poet and nurse tech who resides in Connecticut with her loving husband and son. She is a Human Service major and enjoys writing poetry that explores human emotion and experience. Her poems have appeared in Freshwater, Pink Plastic House, and Anti-Heroin Chic.