The sudden stop
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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