A DIVINE LIGHT HAS GONE OUT
But still glows, being mischievious
as she always was, destined to be
a favorite shooting star—a genuine
work of art admired by one and all.
How comfortable we were, leaning
on each other for all those years.
I loved her more than anyone else in
the world has ever been loved before.
I pluck the strings of my lamentations
to the tune of “Row, row, row your boat—
remembering that life is but a dream.