by Rae Rozman
Eulogy for arrival
Show me the lights
where, among them, she is waiting:
a tiny speck of heat
in a dark green truck
in the cell phone lot
at the Baltimore airport.
Show me the lights
of a sprawling city
where, out in the dark places,
home is waiting.
Where hyacinths rest
on a cluttered table
where a purple quilt
will warm my nights.
Show me the lights
growing brighter every second.
Show me the marvels
of hello.
***
breaking
Breaking
down
is not the opposite of
up
and (into) can mean
)out of(
depending on where you stand
There isn’t a vase lined with gold
that makes our shattering beautiful.
But that doesn’t mean it isn’t.
Image by mariaamanda0140 from Pixabay
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