What’s this?

In still mist
I thought I buried you!
Clinched fist.
I knew, without rue!

Salted lash. 
Eye on the moor 
Shovel, sh-sh-sh
Anchoring mi amor
Soil crash, sh-sh
Noise, masking your allure. 

I felt helpless
Kin to all
it was selfish 
Sin to all

It’s true!
I have been very ill
You knew,
I’d listen, you know my will. 

Soft sounds every morning 
A friend. 
Tugging me away from mourning. 
An end.