The Ones Left Behind
Death surrounds me,
and with it, intimate companions,
grief, guilt, pain, loss, anger,
hovering in the air like ghosts.
There are no words,
no magic ritual of healing and exorcism.
There is only time,
About this poem
It is Memorial Day.
I did a funeral last week. I have another coming up Friday.
So death and loss is in the air around me right now. And most striking, and most important to me, is care of those left behind.
The picture was taken in Venice.