A poem for us, about you

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A poem for us, about you

​Our wild sea is white in your absence though dogs leap and roll on the shingle, knowing nothing of our grief.   Of course, you are not really absent,  and the leaves, now withered and cracked, will grow again, emerald in the spring.   These songs we sing with tears in our throats will rise beyond this simple roof and be carried upon the clouds to your quiet, eternal heart. Lovers, daughters, friends and mothers shall never truly part.   Your kindness and grace, bestowed throughout the years, has given comfort and inspiration to us all.  Of all the words you

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Only a few moments ago

​Only a few moments ago,  I slumped on the floor by your bed like a child and pressed my thumb into the fleshy nook of your elbow and felt the last waxy warmth between your ribs and your arm,  as though you were still able to hold me.   And I thought then about wandering upon the wet cobblestones in Galway after dark,  live music from gallery bars competing with the rushing of the sea and the stars  falling one by one like shivering birds shot out of the sky.   Sleep well now, my love, and thank you for

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The sea and the sky

The sea and the sky

Each scale on the fishtail of humanity glistens in the light and withers in the dark. The sea is cold tonight. The surface blurred, several stars above. Rushing saltwater, like shards of ice in the eyes. We breathe, whichever way we know how. Oxygenating the blood. Freezing the lungs. Folding the heart. The trenches and bunkers are deep and dark. But the sky is young in her flight.

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