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Center of my grief

By Ada Barrett
September 30, 2002
The Iranian

I wrote a letter published in iranian.com called, "He wrote me beautiful love letters". This is a poem I wrote about that same sad loss.

I want to enter my room of pain
Where his scent perfumes the air
And whispered intimacies float
For me to hear again.
The walls are rugs from Isfahan,
The roof the sky.
And beside me is a bed
Where the warmth of his body
Still lingers.
This is where I will lie down
And watch the moon he sends
From east to west
As a sign to me of love
And constancy.
I feel his body close enough to touch
And fall again into his dark eyes
With all the passion of that first night.
This is where I visit, but cannot live,
The center of my grief and desolation,
But also the place where his first words of love
Are stored in a place called my heart.

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