Drafts
This blog is full of drafts;
half-formed ideas, memories,
all trying to explain to myself,
how any of this makes sense.
I don’t have the words to this,
for this unexpected life;
the mystery that brought you,
and the mystery that took you from me.
How your great-grandma walked
for miles, mourning her son,
and now I do the same.
How everything she did after he died,
was touched with her sadness,
and the tired grace of a woman
worn out by sorrow.
As everything I do now is
touched with my sadness,
and the tired grace of a woman
who fought hard for you,
who somehow believes you know
and forgive her for her frailty.
Its an honor to be able to read your posts, Janet.
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