Death
After the reaper appears for us,
And our vital bodies rendered to ash...
What great proof will remain of our love?
Will the after years shed less light
On our breathless consuming passion?
Will our photographs that subtlety
Captured nuances of the love in our eyes
Stand clear enough for our descendants
To realize our profoundness shared?
I would go with you without trepidation
Knowing our ashes would not belie what
Once was felt for each other to be eternal.
I cling to thoughts that my words expressed
Through once valued prose not be forgotten
By our future generations who know of
Us only by our faded photographs.
© Connie Marcum Wong
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