Don’t ask if he made love to her, or which one of them started to cry
For he will never answer now, and if she answered at all, she’d lie…

In the shadows of the graveyard stood the widow, still as stone
For hours it seemed that she did not breathe, and for hours, she was alone
But when, finally, she turned to leave, she saw a figure waiting there
A woman just at middle age, with honey–colored hair

The widow at first was startled, but recovered with an easy grace.
This would not be the first time she’d met strangers in this place.
She smiled a bit, then walked towards the stranger just to say
That she was welcome, to ask her name, and to please feel free to stay

Then the widow saw the dry–eyed weeping the stranger had not concealed
And how those eyes watched her, not where the body had been sealed
To the widow came a premonition, vague, yet hard as stone
This stranger she’d not met before was someone not unknown

"Excuse me," said the widow, "but have we met somewhere before?"
"Oh, no," the woman answered. "My home is on the western shore.
But I would guess you’ve probably heard of me, as I have heard of you."
Then the woman smiled shyly, and said "Hello. My name is Sue."

It took a moment, then the name connected
And in a blinding flash the widow knew
That both those songs she’d thought were just affected
Weren’t just fairy tales—they were true.

The widow stood there, speechless, and the seconds ticked away
Then a quiet voice intruded, and brought her back to the present day.
Sue was whispering "I’m so sorry—I should not have come. I’ll go."
And then she turned and took a deep breath, and gathered in her coat.

The widow asked Sue if she’d loved him
That’s when both of them started to cry
So they sat on the stone that marked the best man both had known
Till the tears, once again, ran dry.

And of course, they finally got around to talking
’Bout how and where they were, and how they’d been
And how it was so frightening and so different
When you really had to start your life again
They talked, ’cause each had just a piece
Of the life they’d been thinking about
But you can never really see the whole
Till you get all the pieces out.

The widow thought about Sue later on that night
After Sue had said good–bye and left for home
How life’s circles still keep turning
Even after life for some had come and gone
She knew there’d be no sequels to this story—
An epilog to close what’s passed and bid adieu
But she knew there were still story tellers out there
That set to music their life’s stories, old and new

Then the widow thought about the many stories
Her lover’d written ‘cause of things that he’d lived through
And took to heart the truth all life’s a circle
Even when you lose the one closest to you
And she hoped that for those songwriters, it happened
That, now and then, just like a bolt out of the blue,
When they felt lost and in need of inspiration
That each of them would one day find their Sue
Ooo ooooo, ooo ooooo, ooo ooo o–o–ooo…
…one day, find their Sue…