On the day of God with us, she left.
The idling engine betrayed her silent farewell and droned long after the tears
Her tears
not ours
We who remain
Remain
Forced to remember her in greeting card moments and obligatory cheer
Grimacing at awkward platitudes
“She would have been so proud”
We who remain
prefer to find her in the trees and the storm
We who remain
court grief like a cautious lover until she becomes a familiar friend
We who remain
try to find meaning in loss and beauty in ashes
We who remain
wonder if the fog will ever lift
And then one day
it does.
Leave a Reply