What I have become through grief
A poem
A line of spider silk, glinting like a mandolin string
plucked by air. A twang of light.
A bag of garnet velvet
wrapped around ashes.
A painted cup, leaf of bone
china. The shadow of fingers.
A poem
A line of spider silk, glinting like a mandolin string
plucked by air. A twang of light.
A bag of garnet velvet
wrapped around ashes.
A painted cup, leaf of bone
china. The shadow of fingers.