Was it that
the wide rim of love fell open
exposing
its own end—death
you said
would settle
everything—
or that a solitary
person
bears witness
to what
no longer is
like the last egret
that leaves
the slough in fall
or that some idea of fidelity
remains
even when the body
passes on
even when I only want
to walk away
Power, grace and resonance mark these fine April poems of yours. I walk away after reading and can still SEE them.
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