If I were cement and shadows
I could not know enough
to be ready for such news —
the letter in her loopy script
her cheer and sweet affection
sliced through by death —
where-were-you-when, we ask,
the moment’s film a looping strip,
that heartbeat of grief’s lesson —
language immersion — without
banter or books — left to imagine,
to wonder at inarticulate despair —
antelope calf left to negotiate
with lions, memory flayed,
cicatrix of sorrow.
© j.i. kleinberg
You’ve said what’s so hard to say…
Thank you. Are you at all surprised to go back and read what you wrote? I felt like I was fairly focused, but it’s like reading someone else’s words. 😉
Yes! I see one of my titles and think ‘I wonder what that one is about!.’
How was it being up all night?
It was actually okay. I wasn’t as thrashed as I expected to be. Slept three hours in the morning and had a fairly normal day yesterday, then a good sleep last night. All in all, okay.