When it's over

When

When it's over, it's over,
and we don't know
any of us, what happens then.
So I try not to miss anything.
I think, in my whole life,
I have never missed
The full moon
or the slipper of its coming back...

Mary Oliver, Swan: Poems and Prose Poems


A dear and gentle friend, a hospice nurse and lovely soul, died today of cancer.  This poem "just happened" to fall open by her bedside yesterday; I thought I'd share it with you now as she occupies my thoughts and prayers...