Listen to this poem on episode 18 of the podcast.
Silences pierced by hic cup ping sobs.
words falter into sighs.
Shifty glances from onlookers wanting to
help or at least to know
Downpour of slick tears onto
enflamed nostrils congested and straining.
Comforting words difficult to process.
Bursting veins of boiling red paint
little curves and twists
into normally white viewing vessels.
Mourning. Loss anger pain
And life goes on and life goes on but
we stop anyway.
And when we’ve dried the slippery roadways traced onto flushed faces,
some will move on.