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My words come
with labor
for there are few sounds
that utter my sorrow.
The words sink
within me,
fading down into all
the memories of your face
your smile
your hands
your touch.
The words now
escape me; they are swallowed
by visions of you
on the horizon.
I dare not turn away
for fear
they will sink
and be swallowed
with time.  


On Labor Day weekend of 2007, the life of my dear friend was cut short at the young age of 30.  I wrote this to help express my grief and shock.  Whether a death happens suddenly or expectedly, there is a sense of shock and wanting to hold on to that person’s essence.  I think perhaps we engage all our senses in this attempt to ‘remember‘.


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