Teetering on the edge

We were teetering on the edge

There are so few left now.
Then it will be our turn.
The richness of life.
Crushed.

Deep ravines of love.
Etched through time.
Faces that will never grow old.
Torments my very soul.

Momentary lapses.
Forgotten voices.
Forgotten smiles.
Brought to life through an image. A memory.

Pain sears the ever-broken heart.
As we say goodbye to yet another loved one.
Tears of joy.
For the richness of life.

It hurts deeply.
In the fullness of time,
It will be my turn.
Knowing they will be waiting for me,
Makes the burden in some small way, so much easier.