Ending

6/27/24

Inching toward an ending I could never write

— pebbles of small cries ruminating in my head like a mother’s hips

Don’t tire too soon

these words will wither like fluid births of disciples

Dates of our love

painted across bridges as a brother’s lost friend

Gestures of life spent smiling like the rise of remembrance

and touches from threaded wood

Signatures sit neatly next to them — siblings waiting for the

smack

They've done nothing wrong see

See through our minds like glass hair

Icicles twinkling in doorways singing songs of lovers

— never lost completely only

forgotten in soil

— ODH