The moon was half the night you left,
Took to the sky with your last breathe,
The wind it whistled through your hair,
Your precious soul it filled the air.

You howled goodbye to those you love,
Ran through the clouds up way above,
The night was dark but you felt content,
‘Cause this is where the good ones went.

The ones you left, they mourn and cry,
They were not ready to say goodbye,
Your presence would fill the room with flare,
But now the room is cold and bare.

When laid to rest the moon was crescent,
And all the ones you loved were present,
Memories shared and stories told,
About your life from young to old.

One day our hearts will start to mend,
From losing a wife, a daughter, a friend,
And every time the moon is full,
We’ll raise our heads and we’ll see you.

poem Author: by Laura Maynard