Tuesday is for the turn you took that I could not have prevented,
that no one saw, especially not you.
Wednesday is for the hospital johnny they put you in, the books you asked me to bring you, the food you could eat without knives
Thursday is for everything fragile we built collapsing like sand castles
when the sun has dried the water and there is nothing left to hold the grains together
Friday is dark and empty without you home.
Saturday is dark and empty without you home. I don’t like weekends anymore.
Sunday we looked down into the crevice the earth wrought
and you reached up to take our hands
Monday is for the moon that I almost forgot,
shining through translucent clouds to remind me that love is not loved,
but loved begets love,
completing the circle.
**
I write these poems to support the work of Center for New Americans. If you enjoy reading them, please consider donating to my fundraising page. Thank you!
