A poem written by Pauline O'Connor to her brother Boyd Gatton, one of the more than 140 poems contained in her latest book

It's November the third I'm on my way home

Sharon took a turn for the worst

Who wrote this story, did they think about me?

My heart feels as though it will burst.

She is really not good but I won't leave her side

I couldn't say farewell to you.

But I'm making sure that no matter the time

I'll be there to see her go through.

It's one thirty a.m., the seventh day of November

She's gone she's now found her peace.

It kills me to know that you are both gone

But I'll keep strong for the sake of our niece.

I told her to go and suffer no more

I told her I couldn't find our baby brother.

I told her to find you and we'll be all right

I'll stay and comfort our mother.

I'm letting you go, for now I have to move on

A new day is here and I have to embrace it.

Time is promised to no one on this earth

So I have to be smart and not waste it.