Friday, May 28, 2010

Loss


I wanted the blankets in which he wrapped himself

each night, sleeping wound in soft plaid fleece;

but a helpful sister, in need of a task

amid the hubbub of new death

had gathered every loose thread

and set them to rinse & spin.

4 comments:

  1. Oh. Almost unbearable, the complexity and ache of that. But thank you.

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  2. After my mother died I would hear her calling my name. If someone had taken away those sounds I would have been devastated. Cro.

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  3. So powerful in so few words..........

    ReplyDelete