They lie beneath this cold Earth,
Yards yet years apart,
She who will ever be Nineteen,
He who filled half my adult life.
I will never see the woman she could have been,
Nor share with him the fruits of our labours,
But life goes on, if only for a short while,
And I still have my pledge to him to honour.
March 24, 2024
I feel the same. Very poignant poem. If no progeny, is that DNA lost? The body is gone, the memory lives on for us, and the soul lives on for them.