The dog grows old, the fledgling you rescued dies anyways,the water dries up, the crops (the dreams) you planted turn to dust. It was not supposed to be this way. (This breaks my heart.)Or maybe this is exactly how it was supposed to be.(And this breaks my heart even more.) And yet; The sun rises –again,again,again,even though,…
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I wish for the impossible, for the faraway lifetime that ended years ago. I wish that the earth, soft with winter rain, would feel your feet — wide and solid — walk again through our garden. And that you would gather winter squash as you did before. I wish for one more brightly-lit dinner around…
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Grief is a wilderness — sometimes I think I can see where I am supposed to go, but most of the time I can’t quite make out where the path is or how this will all settle down to something I can hold in my hands and say — ‘There. There is my loss and…
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