To My Beloved Charlotte
by Bruce Campbell Walters
Fifty years have passed, and three years more,
And post-war Phoenix where we lived
Has fashioned from its crucible the desert sand
Marvels greater than Babylon.
Of every person we then knew,
Only I continue in this world
To mark the anniversary each year
Of your too sudden death.
Shall Nostalgia therefore forbid,
As I’m in transit through some morning half-awake
Between a night bereft of you
And day also cursed,
My hand in love to lightly stroke
The reach of bed
Where in the former times You were?
Shall God demur if in the lonely hour
My thoughts regress to Phoenix lost
And how your presence graced it?