Sonnet 20 'she Could Not Be Less Than My Love, My Friend'
She could not be less than my Love, my Friend,
She broke open each fiction I’d believed,
She touched my hands like Time would never end,
And, in the end, we were the more deceived.
She was the radiant hope of humble fellow,
She saw each gift, unseen, and made it blossom,
She knew that God would one Day, make her well,
And, in the end, her Victory was my loss.
She rose, after she died, and blessed bright Heaven!
She smiles, and still I feel the glow that comes
She poured her life out, that She might pour Leaven
Upon the humble us, who fumble, all thumbs…
She married me in nineteen-ninety-two,
And eighteen months ago, my Love, Friend… flew.
1/17/2019
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