If I am repaired, can we meet again for the first time, in all of the places I have feared to go, and then, again, in all of the places I will have forgotten, if I am repaired?



Friday, September 27, 2013

My Dear Friend,

          I have wondered how your garden faired this year without you. Did the love of your life rise that first warm morning after and spread the seeds you so carefully collected? Or did the winter of your passing settle so deeply into her bones that the season came and went unnoticed? I too have turned up the icy scar, plowing along, another ring added, and stand among my own neglect, wondering who will bring her firewood?                                                                                            


  1. Beautiful words.
    The gaping hole left that day is still deep and dark and oh so sadly quiet.

  2. speechless to your beautiful post....


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