Who can bear to grieve, all at once, twenty children and six grownups, much less
Get busy enough to marginalize liars who say more guns will make babies more safe?
Only a liar would dismiss the fate of the Newtown mother who bought her son an arsenal of guns.
They’re in a better place, it’s said; maybe so, but it’s that they’re dead, not their whereabouts, that I hold onto
Because imagining the present situation of the previously alive distracts me from arriving at the source of tears.
My sister died just months earlier, and it will be years before I’ve cried enough and settled matters with her, whose significance to me is more serious than a secret between children.
by Dave Conlin Read