He saw her now
By the window staring out
At the stubborn sea.
Her hair drawn back
In that style she had,
Her eyes cool blue
Like a summer‘s day;
Her hands by her side
Clutching soft cloth of dress
In idle thought or dream-like state.
He spoke, but she never heard,
His words wasted on the ghostly sight,
His eyes seeing the unseen
Since death had claimed.
He stood beside her shadowed self,
Put out his hand,
And touched the vacant air.
Gone now, just his vacant stare.
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