no objective correlative for this hard time
more life in a desert than in desolation
this grief is punctuation. stop. what can be next?
the pressure of sorrow and terror, internal
external: what is being ground to dust between
these real or imagined huge and relentless stones
outside the window above the altar, a rock
cliff more ancient than the church, crevices alive
with moss and fern, rising to bare sentinel trees
there is never just one death, each person’s dying
takes so much with it, the form of a family
and other circles that held her, that she helped hold
the ducks and geese know where they are going and why
they splash land, they lift off and fly. Ripples remain
till they widen out and out into the unseen
Elizabeth, it is more than your friend you miss
stay here with yourself awhile, be patient, be still
while you grieve your feet are listening to the ground