On Thursday night I spent hours talking with a friend who recently lost her daughter-in-law in a tragic accident. 21 year old kid, drunk, killed a woman. Fortunately, her two small children were not in the car. There's no way to bring comfort to all who are hurting, but I used the VerseLove prompt to process our conversation and to, perhaps, find a way to gift a poem to help her heal. Prayers up. All of us invested in this hope.
Sometimes
(for Shirls)
~b.r.crandall
sometimes ears
defend the mouth,
heeding the cries of
a screaming child -
sister holding a hand
as photographs bloom
above a casket.
crocuses
daffodils.
papers tell the story
in paragraphs -
21-year old buck
boozing with buddies
behind a wheel.
mother of two
needed a few things
down the road.
She was only a few miles away.
Sometimes ears
overpower humor,
a wit to make
others laugh.
He’s not doing well.
He doesn’t want to live,
She was everything to him,
Purpose. Meaning.
Ways to forget his past.
All I can see is his face in the hospital,
the first time his dad tried.
Their eyes locked and I worried,
like father, like son
Sometimes ears
don’t understand the music,
when listening to the screams
of a father, a son,
mourning
down the hall,
when all she needs
is to cry,
too.
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