Dinner’s at Six

Here I am

Aching to know

What’s on the other side of

My grief.

My child,

To share this wisdom

Would be The Gracious Luxury

For us both.

Sometimes it’s a sudden good-bye-

A take it and run good-bye.

A gone in a second, by a drive-by.


Sometimes it’s a subtle screw-

Taken from us before our knowing could understand

the bond each birthday missed. 


My child

My self,

Is a ghost of an experience –

It lives between that memory we honestly know to be partially true

And now’s reality draped with denial by the unwitting mind.

It exhausts us

Into next. We curl-up into surrender.

Bind together imperfection and love

Cement another brick onto the memorial,

And walk home in time for dinner –


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