kurdish dancers

At my brother’s funeral last Monday, I thought of all the years we had shared and
of our shared happiness and sorrows.  My eldest brother died last year and Dina
died two years ago.


Holding together
In some far flung corner
Of yesterday,
We wait in silence
For darkness to separate us. 

Already, it has taken
Those we could not bear to lose.
And like a spoilt child
Who will not pass the ball,
Darkness never gives them back. 

Our tears seem useless,
Yet, every tear proves
The continued existence
Of love.

© 2020 Gwen Grant

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