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“Does it help you to have a place to go?”
I had just lit all of the crossroad prayer

candles; just said, “I love you,” in their glow
and dusk fell and I glanced up to find her

walking into their light. “Where should I take
my mom’s ashes?”
I hope that what I said

helped. We are all haunted with raw heartache
but few come to graveyards to ask the dead

for help. I don’t feel cast out in twilight.
It helps. In here owls love me and I burn.

Out there? I’m numb. I didn’t see her leave
or fade. She was just gone. Perhaps tonight

she will return with her ashes, return
to where we’re not forsaken when we grieve.