The last one, and perhaps the one that hurts the most; my younger sister and one of my best friends ever. Thank you for reading these poems; For me, May is time set aside for remembrance.
FRANCES
Here I will rest
My ashes falling
Into swirls of bog-brown water
In Spring perhaps
The river quiet
And the birds gone mad
My ghost will hover –
A shape in powdered white
Casting chills on my attendants
Willows hang their leaves
Across the rush of water
Such an airy, fragile green
And I think of you –
Your airy, fragile spirit
Gone out of turn before me
Our childhood memories
All lop-sided now
A pulse of anger yet –
Why aren’t you here!
You should be here!
The mystery of your absence
Plagues me
I kneel beside your grave
Bend low to sense your soul
Breathe in the smell of earth.
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