02/02/08 - 4/25/08

How is your sorrow?

Is it long today?

Does it move through the hours?

Does it touch your face?

Does it sit in your stomach,

Or up in your mind?

Does it weigh like a brick?

Or wrap you in twine?

Who did you bury?

Will you bury love too?

Is this the first crib;

Empty?

Do these faces comfort?

Do they scatter your mind?

Does each whisper conspire,

To shut your eyes blind?

Is love too abstract,

To put in a hole?

Can a two foot short box,

Bankrupt a soul?

Does it madden your ears,

When the chickadees chirp,

In these two rainy springs,

That buried your girls?

Years

Years

Have you gone somewhere gone,

And emptied your rage?

If madness is a bird,

Are you in its cage?

Have you found conclusion,

When life is so brief?

After all your living,

Does love sweep like grief?

Years

Photo by Tim Mossholder