Fragile Things
and crush all resolve,
peppering the days with
early, sorrowful spring showers.
Young lives--fragile things
retreating beneath the shade
of growing blooms,
like petals
wilting along side
memories of contagious laughter
and almond skin.
The core remains,
deeply rooted in the soil
waiting, for the pain to cease--
leaving only fondness.
1 comment:
This is the epitaph I wrote to Rachel James' mother after she was killed. I was a little hesitant to post it because of the weight of the subject matter, but I figured if it helped her mother cope, it might help someone else who reads it as well.
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