For Deborah Poem by L MILTON HANKINS

Sometime last I think it was, my dear,
When first I shed the maddening tear
And felt the inner loss of sadness,
It was for a lifetime of dreaded fear…
[Then the plunging trickle down my cheek
Landing on the barren furrow
Where I had sown the moment's sorrow
Like a million millenniums bereft of sun]
You were gone before the morning ray
Could glance across November's frosty pane
Or fill the deep, deep well of loneliness
I have felt inside since you have gone away.
That I should grow old alone afraid
And know the distant knell of death
Without you there to hold my trembling hand.
Sometime last I think it was, my dear.