and proverb too,
its walls unblemished
by strikes that snuff
the brightest stars.
Pick one,
toss it to the grieving.
Study their faces
for gratitude.
Now picture this:
You cradle your
breathless child,
kiss his face,
surrender her to
men in masks
and gowns.
Imagine the
sound of an
empty glass,
that metaphor
unfurled to
comfort you.