June 13

You’d think the peace would calm me,
that your absence would provide space
to process our brief in passing,
that years would offer perspective
and healing. But here you are,
a laugh, a slap, a tree-trunk
squirreling deep into the earth.
Not one inch of you taken from me
and so, better for you to arrive on a bus
with baggage. I’ll pick you up
and bring you home.

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A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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