Tag Archives: grief

the crust

I make bread not the way mom and grandma did, kneading until knuckles were clean of flour but with my Kitchenaid with a dough hook funny how that smell of bread, still warm cut open spread with butter and honey … Continue reading

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Kummerspeck

They call it grief bacon that cushion of extra tasty layered over pain It is not delicious? Nothing sweeter than old tears lacing chocolate.

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she says burn everything

for A.H. She’s tired of finding bodies in beds or bathtubs, innocent and empty until memory fills them. Whether she heard the last breath or missed it isn’t the point. She didn’t choose this, the cleanup afterwards, the telephone calls, the … Continue reading

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washing what’s dead

for mothers Mothers are beginnings, certain as life is movement, that first felt spin in the pit of the pelvis more directed than bowel gas, a twist with purpose to it; an introduction more real than EPT, sore breasts, or missed periods. We … Continue reading

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the shortest eulogy in the world starts and ends here

i want to sing your life or smile it but loss carries me past words

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Foothills (for Nancy)

so this is it, then the view outside his hospital window; the strip malls you will memorize while one day he eats, one day he will not or cannot, the almost-painted trees you will count when you can not keep counting … Continue reading

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