Both about the deceased but more about the needs of the living. That's why I often think about what I will say when my father passes, for my mother. I think about it but I have no idea. It will come to me when the time comes.

Your poem reminded me of this unbroken line tanka I wrote 3.5 years ago, which you did read. I titled the post The Illusion of Death

"Exit-date illusion souls do not dissipate still leaving all-too-real for somnambulists yet waking won’t salve grieving hearts"