Tuesday, October 17, 2023

in a critical condition

Ivy clings like memories even when all the tenses fall wrong

I keep looking over my shoulder for the children are slower and left behind 

I fall, then my face falls, my sight falls away, and
then my mask falls

I've answered grief as loud as I can but how could I be louder than my disbelief

I sweep up my footprints in the dust, my imprints in the sand, and let my fingerprints burn

I have mourned the dead; I am mourning the dead; I will always be mourning the dead.


Pic: Ivy wall with L.


Nicole said...


maya said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
StephLove said...

It's so tragic. All of it.

maya said...

Nicole: 💗 💗

Truly tragic, Steph. 💗 💗

Gillian said...

Good luck.

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