Clairvoyeur

 

I have this gift,

also a curse,

where I can see deep into the future,

just after a loved one has died.

I can know the profound loss

of laughing at jokes that weren’t funny,

or trading word puzzles back and forth,

long before the grief is there.

I can feel the ache of dying

for just one last whiff of peanut butter and coffee,

or even the scratch of a paw on my arm.

I can mourn when I see a flower,

knowing the day will come when my

grandmother can’t name it for me.

It’s a special gift,

because I don’t forget to

take my mother half-sweet, half-unsweet tea

or watch my husband breathe in his sleep.

But I’d love to have a day

where I don’t wonder when someone

will die.

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