by Daughter
I want to create a straight line from here to there from grief to whole but instead grief has drawn circles for me to follow. I went to your grave to put my hands in the Earth my palms pressed into the dirt to deliver the love I neglected to bestow and I depart with dirt under my nails and your poetry in my heart. I pressed my fingers deeper into the soil and I communed with you I touched the time I fell asleep next to you as a child drawing words with my fingers on your back the guessing game of children touching skin. The straight letters the I's and the T's are easier to guess the S's and the B's with the loops and the circles take longer to decipher. My fingers are the same as then your poetry flows through them still and now my letters, your words draw circles for me to follow.