Well, this is what I have to say:

She Left When the Grass was Wet

Spirit of the early hour
Struck the solace of the silence
Transforming her blood and flesh
Warm, tepid, cold.
I cannot reach through heavenly realms
An asymptote to life
She left when the grass was wet

Comforters offer doting words
Or Meals cooked with love
Stomach greets with groaning hunger
But a nauseous heart protests
My smile mirrors theirs - mechanical
Freeze frame - they are far away
She left when the grass was wet

Leaden heart lodged in oesophagus
Breath is fractured by the weighty load
Bereft of speech I stand
Solitary teardrop burns soft cheek
As Rain slides down the windowpane
In playful imitation, is it mocking me?
She left when the grass was wet

Should have. could have. Why.
Every Pensive midnight invites insanity
Dark imaginings flood the skull
Like venom through the veins they sting
Fighting not to dwell on them
For it does not quell the brain
She left when the grass was wet

Tick- tock resonates within eardrums
The clock coaxes gradual acceptance
“When your time is up it’s up”
The stoical response
They say she sings with angels now
And I hope so too
She left when the grass was wet

By me, the writer of the silly and serious: