The sudden stop

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Death is Stop

It's a shock

every time

how complete the end is

no loose ends

for the dead.

They left their luggage on the train.


I have not cried enough for my grandma

So last night I dreamed her funeral again 

every pulpit talk

and choir

and cried

"I don't believe it" I sobbed to my dad in the pew as I dreamed him grieving, too.


I dream often of

Rising tides

Salt water lifting its soft cheeks up towards the sky

the moon leaning down like a grandmother

to kiss


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