With Time

If I’d thought about it much… But well. Suppose,
Suppose I never did, and all my hopes
Are filing out of pews in whispering rows
With sympathy and handshakes at the door.
I thought at least you’d get to say goodbye
And pinch the children’s cheeks and mess their hair;
I thought at least the older ones would cry,
And let you help them, trembling, to a chair;
I thought as if my thoughts would really matter,
I didn’t think they’d leave me all at once,
I thought it would be sad; but this is sadder
Than all the crumpled hymn sheets, all the suns
That winked like usher’s candles when I passed
And promised me they’d last, they’d last.

Thomas Clark