Grief

Through the window the tree

hung with stars

but also another tree behind it

shaggy and dark.

 

When I want to I can feel it

looming.

 

There is a canyon

I used to think about

all the time,

very deep.

 

Sometimes I go back

and press my cheek

against the rough

sheer wall

just to remind myself

how I will never

move it.

 

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