Thoughts and edits

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Thoughts and edits

Post  dennis20 on Mon Mar 04, 2013 5:20 pm

Two Years
After You Committed Suicide

Your rooted family came
together and planted a river birch

down the lane by my mailbox—a
weeping monument.

When the wind
blows, branches tremble like time ticking.

Dimness must have set in for
brothers and sisters, but

when they reappear, they are
greeted by a kerchief

blazing like a
red sun hanging on a barren branch.

We don’t flinch,

but can’t outrun the years with you:

we unreel long-gone hippie days,
your hearty laugh, how you’d drink sunlight,
and we remember the way you could ripple
a conversation.


In shock,

we recall the long night of weeping

after you’d filled yourself with bullets—
first, from a medicine bottle and then,
from an innocent gun. We aren’t

to storms, but

some carry a
fear for a child

that may one
day startle us by leaving,



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