So light, delicate.
But under its weight trees crack.
Roofs collapse. Hearts fail.
Snow
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So light, delicate.
But under its weight trees crack.
Roofs collapse. Hearts fail.
The man who fell to
earth left us too soon, stardust
in Major Tom’s wake.
Sodden ground swampy
a mash of leaves, plants, flowers
once distinct, now soup.
We discuss the soul,
ponder death’s postlude, then choose
the happy ending.
That first brush with death
shook loose her confident grasp
of all she held dear.
They hadn’t spoken
in a year, but she came home
to wish him goodbye.
You’re gone, leaving class
mates to learn that last lesson:
life can be too short.
Liked by all, no one
knows why he veered off the road
toward eternity.
He feared brain blood clots
but it’s labyrinthitis.
He’ll live after all.
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