Wednesday, April 22, 2020


I wish I had more to say 
about loss and grief, 
that I could convince you 
they didn’t suffer, 
they’re in a better place 
now, that they’re gone 
but not forgotten.  
The photographs 
will never be replaced,  
future plans  
never made, holidays 
and vacations kept 
separate. The children 
will never know each 
other, what those late 
night conversations 
meant to us both, 
what dreams dreamt. 
We may never see 
each other again. 
What would it take 
to move past 
all this waiting, 
what gesture 
would release us? 
I have nothing 
to gift you: 
no flowers, no 
book or poems, 
no letter scrawled 
in broken script, 
a tear-filled hello
abject apologies, 
a swift defense, 
repentance real 
or feigned. Weakness 
is my greatest fault. 
Consider this 
a gauntlet thrown.