to a friend, on the death of her father


    there are days where life
    seems to stretch out like a
    great plain, endless expanse
    melting into the horizon

    this is not one of those days

    today is a fresh amputee
    cut down to a stump of sadness
    the expected assassinated
    while we slept and awakened

    to the now and the not here

    let us cling to each other
    like refugees like orphans
    he is not here but we are
    we are here together

    and we cannot stop the pain

    only share it and trust
    as we hold each other
    that we are being held
    across death and dimensions

    by the beautiful broken hands of God



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