
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
Who could have expected such numbing pain
Or that something as completely mundaneAs a shovel
Leaning against the plum-tree
Would be the undoing
Of carefully protected stitches
Loss has many faces
And leaps from unwary places
The wind cannot set a-drift need
Anymore than a thousand friends
Can replace the missing of you, my love
How perpetually longing can bleed
Easily, as yarn unravels from torn sweaters
Memories spill from tear-worn letters
And mere thought cannot stop its undoing
‘Darling, remember our pledge at the plum-tree, because’
Your words blur; a shovel is futile
When trying to bury the past... and us
Janet~