A simple shroud
a sheet of spider web spreads
across the place that you once grew
the vine still grows
where it once wrapped you
in a dark embrace
two parts of you
lie stretchered on the ground
where you once stood
so close to me
then you fell
I caught you in my arms
and held you here ten years
grieving bitter tears
only your higher part remains
held up by my divided self
till I shall stand no more
Your twined trunk
matches my twinned branches
held high
brought low
decay is sure but slow
You are gone, all rotten
while I stay strong
how long
before I go too
a part of you
still holding on to me
Images taken at the grave today eleven years after Gill Owen collapsed and died in my arms
