My Cousins Face Poem by grace mariner

I have two cousins.
I am old, they are older.
Their faces have remained relatively unchanged.
Of course the tracks of times' continuous march
leave its' mark as it does on all lucky enough
to withstand it.
But for many, there comes that defining moment
of devastation.
That moment where the very light fades from the
eyes of the beholder.
The heart shredded, torn into fragments too small
to ever be pieced together again, continues to beat anyway.
Loss endured but not survived, victims walk, slowed
now by the losses found.
There is an ever present sadness on their beautiful
faces, caught by the cameras lens as we grow
accustomed to these changes, looking out from our
own sadness, our own losses.
What loss compared to the loss of a grandchild or the
loss of a daughter?
Does it matter if they are taken by Gods hand or the
hand of the Devil?
The loss leaves that same vacancy in our life, that
same emptiness in our heart.
We cannot hide that sadness from the cameras eye.
We all lose in this game of life, some more than others,
the stakes higher, the penalty to live without what
was dearest to us all along.