Her life and his were intertwined,
Like vines or lover’s hands;
Both separate and together were
Their hopes and dreams and plans —
Before the day that all was change,
The cut down to the bone;
The reaching for what’s ever gone,
The song that’s sung alone
For life was full of music, once:
A choral sort of song —
She still can hear the melody,
It’s harmony
That’s gone