The sirens blared as the ambulance left the building
but I don’t know why they bothered.
She was already dead
had only been recently discovered.

People die all the time
old people, doubly so.
It was no surprise that she was gone
but what was a surprise
was how I cared.

I guess I didn’t realize
until the chance to do so had forever fled
just how little I loved her.
The absence was obvious right away
as was the need to complete
various bits of business
but pain?
Grief?
I guess it wasn’t in my nature.

I sat with the solitude for weeks
through wake and funeral
and blackened fashions
and dour days.
I kept up appearances
but couldn’t find it in me to cry
until the storm.

When weeks later
the skies opened up in fury
I thought of how she had loved
to watch for clouds
and how she would have thrived
in the preparation.
There were no storms for her anymore
and I would have to suffer future emergencies alone.

It was then
I wept
for in the storm
nobody could see the tear
or listen to me wail like a siren
– not that there was anyone left
to hear.