The day is done
and now it’s night.
A poet has been taken,
from our sight.
Why do you cry?
For she will never die,
She has given us words
we can all live by.
It can’t be ignored,
her words leave us restored.
She gave us words to cherish
Therefore, she can never perish.
She has conquered death,
For her words give us breath.
Like the flecks of a new sunrise,
words take on new meaning
at a poet’s demise.