“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.
