That's my wife there
in the photo
kneeling beside her sister's headstone
Linda who died too young
and who I'm told
did not complain
except to say once
knowing she had little time
that she felt cheated
which of course was true

They were the closest friends
and now my wife
is tasked with placing flowers
real of course not plastic
on her sister's grave
in this quaint country town
where we come only rarely
but then Linda's with us
in our home and for my wife
remains a source of memories
and feelings mostly happy
sometimes sad or bittersweet
it's now been twenty years
and she's no otherworldly ghost
rather a living presence
one with whom we share
at times I think unknowingly
our sorrows and our joys