At a time of grief

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Grief

 

During and after my mother’s death

I left plenty of space for grieving

or so I thought.

It seems to need so much

perhaps, after all, I will need a new life.

All this brokenness and sitting still.

 

The cherry has been pink since December.

It blooms from dry branches,

never lets go.

 

 

 

poem and photograph Rose Cook

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